


The Bureaucratic Spirit of the Season

by Ira_Dunfort



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 31 Days of Ineffables Advent Calendar Challenge (Good Omens), 31 Days of Ineffables Advent Calendar Challenge 2019 (Good Omens), A Second South Downs Cottage, Advent Calendar, Attempt at Humor, Bathtub Sex, Blow Jobs, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, Edgeplay, Even more pining, F/M, Falling In Love, First Christmas, Fluff, Frenenemies with Benefits to Lovers, Gabriel Has A Thing for Cute Feet, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Jewelry, Lazy Mornings, Love Confessions, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Morning Cuddles, Morning Sex, Mutual Pining, Orgasm Delay, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recreational use of alcohol, Requited Unrequited Love, Resolved Sexual Tension, She/Her Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), Smut, Soft Bureaucracy, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Swearing, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wing Grooming, Wings, background ineffable husbands, doing the laundry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:14:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 37,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21628972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ira_Dunfort/pseuds/Ira_Dunfort
Summary: I shall post a small ficlet of Gabriel and Beelzebub each day until the 24th. There will be fluff, there will be smut, there will be everything in between.Mostly, there will be high ranking ethereal idiots in love.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 248
Kudos: 279





	1. Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> All of this is based on [Drawlight's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drawlight/pseuds/drawlight) advent calendar prompts on Tumblr, found [here](https://drawlight.tumblr.com/post/189391982184/drawlight-drawlight-aziraphale-crowley-for). I'll only post 24 instead of 31 because December is a very busy time and I know my limits. This also means I get to skip/switch prompts to suit my needs. 
> 
> For clarification: While a lot of themes will overlap with my ongoing story [The Grey Fledgling](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1499264), a domestic Bureaucracy kidfic, these two are not connected. 
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◍⊱•••• MISTLETOE••••⊰◍

  


In the South Downs, there stood the traitors cottage decorated in Christmas lights. Glowing icicles ere hanging off the gutter, LED parcels with big bows stood on the lawn, arrangements of pine branches and dried flowers were set up left and right of the door.

Straight across the street stood another cottage, far more modest, except for the wreath hanging from the door with an upturned pentagram in its middle and small black and purple ornaments among the fir-needles. Inside this cottage, there stood a demon prince. Beelzebub had planned to decorate the little earthly house she shared with the archangel Gabriel for what had initially been purely traitor-observation-purposes with as many pagan knickknacks as possible. 

One of which was a mistletoe. 

Problem was, she couldn't reach the ancient-looking hook at the top of the door frame to hang it by a demeaning centimetre. The first idea to fix this issue was to get a ladder, but she had no idea where - and if - there was one in this cottage. Her second idea was to just miracle the bunch of greenery and berries up there. There was a third option, which she chose, based on mischief. 

She hooked the mistletoe into the lower front of her oversized black cable knit jumper. Barefoot she walked back to Gabriel's office space that took up half of what most humans would prefer to use as a living room. 

"Hey, angel," she purred, eyes lascivious, "give me a kiss." Beelzebub leaned against the doorframe, putting on a little show, one hand propped on a hip, the other pointing at the bundle on her front with a flourish. She was sure it looked perfectly cringeworthy. 

Gabriel glanced up from his papers and snorted, clearly amused. "Really? What are you even wearing." 

"It's comfortable." She tugged on the collar that had slipped down to her shoulder.

The archangel gave her a once over, toenails painted black, naked feet and legs, up to the dark jumper that swallowed her hands, settling on her blue eyes under dishevelled black bangs. If that haircut was supposed to have bangs, not even God knew. "You're not wearing anything underneath, are you."

She grinned in return and raised her chin. "Scandalized?"

"I'm not even surprised, honestly." He capped his pen and neatly tucked it away before waving his hand to beckon her closer. "Come here, you'll get your kiss."

Beelzebub padded up to him and leaned down for a chaste peck. She didn't get one. Instead, she had to squeal when he took her by her hips and lifted her onto his desk to sit right in front of him.

"Humans kiss _under_ the mistletoe, do they not?" Gabriel asked, feigning ignorance.

"Yeah." _Shit!_ She meant to have a little fun, ruffle his celestial feathers, but she had the feeling it was just about to backfire at her. 

"What were you planning, demon?" The archangel playfully poked at the plant on her front.

"A little temptation, nothing more." 

He looked up at her, one brow cocked as he contemplated what she was up to. Certainly, he wouldn't go for--

"Oh, blessed Heavens!" Beelzebub gasped as the angel quickly pulled her jumper up to bury his head between her thighs. He started deftly lapping at her without any preamble. "Since when are angels so easily tempted to lust?" 

"This is not a temptation, I'm just following tradition here." His hands smoothed over her thighs, deliberately pushing them further apart. 

"You're supposed to kiss me on the lips!" Beelzebub shoved her hands into his hair, holding on as his tongue did a marvellous little flick. 

"But I am doing that, see?" To prove his point, he placed an almost innocent kiss on her labia before licking between them with fervour to tease at her clit. "The rest is semantics."

"You smug-- oh, _fuck!_ "

Later, Gabriel, quite satisfied with having thwarted the demon's wiles with divine logic, hung the mistletoe on the ceiling lamp, centred between their contrasting desks.


	2. Snowball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I shall post a small ficlet of Gabriel and Beelzebub each day until the 24th. There will be fluff, there will be smut, there will be everything in between.
> 
> Mostly, there will be high ranking ethereal idiots in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was writing this and the next part the story has decided what it wants to be: Pining Frenemies with Benefits to Lovers. So bear with me. 
> 
> Enjoy.

  


### 

◍⊱•••• SNOWBALL ••••⊰◍

  


It was lonely without the archangel. The December holiday season, over the past century, had basically turned into a month-long vacation period for demons. Humans had bastardized the Advent of Christ in every possible way, making it about greed, gluttony and peer pressure. Once that was over, New Year's Eve approached with all its stupidly expensive fireworks no human should have money left for after Christmas. On top of that, fireworks were intended to scare away evil spirits. Said spirits weren't even there, they had their feet up and made bets on how many idiots would buy tacky glasses in the shape of the upcoming year's number.

Beelzebub sipped her Christmas themed can of cinnamon Coca Cola and _sulked_. Gabriel was away doing business since last evening. For him, the season meant work. So many vespers speeches to inspire, charities to bless, angels to coordinate for the holidays to keep chaos at bay. 

The demon prince had come to terms with the fact that she preferred it when Gabriel was at the cottage as well. He was good company, unexpectedly. The archangel was smarter than he let on, easy to converse with, fun to poke at since he had the balls to poke back at her. He wasn't an eyesore, either, not in a suit nor splayed out naked on the single bed of the cottage. 

But that didn't mean she missed him, right? Only that she was bored. Before she could let her mind go down the rabbit hole of feelings, lightning cracked outside. Her stomach did an excited, treacherous flip. She slumped further down the small sofa to look as nonchalant as possible as he opened the door. 

"Bee, I'm back." he called out, way too chipper. She heard the telltale rustling of him pulling off his shoes and hanging up his coat. "Ah, there you are." 

"Hi." She said, denting the can in her hand when she met his purple eyes. "How's it been in old Germany?"

Gabriel nudged her feet to sit down beside her. "You know how they are. Very methodical and punctual. I was done far earlier than expected." While he explained, her feet found their way into his lap, his warm hands wrapped around them without a second thought. 

"Oh? What kept you so long, then?" _Fuck._ It made her sound as if she had been waiting for him. Which she was absolutely not.

"I went to the Christmas market in Nuremberg." His fingers drew little patterns on the back of her feet. 

"The one with the gaudy blonde girl they call Christkindl?" Beelzebub tried to get more than a hint of bite into her words, but his hands were distracting. Soothing, even. 

"Yes, that one." Gabriel grimaced. How they had come up with that tradition and name still eluded him. "I brought you a little something." He reached beside the sofa and pulled up a linen carrier bag with the castle of Nuremberg printed on its sides. 

At that, Beelzebub sat up, heart skipping a beat. "A gift?"

"So to speak." His eyes glistened with curiosity, and he watched her peek into the bag. 

"Sweets? You brought me sweets?" She pulled out box after box. Original Elisen gingerbread, various types of roasted almonds, a shining candied apple, two bottles of mulled wine from the market and, in the last box, four thick balls made of wrapped broad short-pastry strings, covered in powdered sugar. "Snowballs?" 

"I was told they are exclusive to the region. I hope you like marzipan, this one is made with it." He pointed at the first in the row of four. "The others are vanilla, chocolate, and the last one is made with rum and hazelnuts."

"Marzipan is _disgusting_." Beelzebub felt him stiffen beside her. "That's why it is my favourite." She added, not missing the smile that bloomed on his face. 

He relaxed, took the box and opened it for her. "Go on, treat yourself."

"I shouldn't be taking offerings from an angel," the demon mused out loud, "but how could I possibly resist?" She peeled a piece off the marzipan pastry and struck in unceremoniously into her mouth. She was not prepared for how blessed _delicious_ it was and inadvertently moaned at the taste. 

"Good?"

She nodded and chewed, enjoying the sweetness and texture, another approving little sound escaping her. She swallowed and reached to take another piece. Gabriel took her outstretched hand and pulled her into a kiss. Her surprised gasp was silenced by the archangel hungrily licking into her mouth, his tongue meeting hers. He hummed in delight and pushed one hand into her hair, changing the angle to deepen the kiss even further. Beelzebub was about to grab his tie and pull him down to lie on the sofa with her when he broke away.

"Sorry." Gabriel breathed the word against her lips. He drew back, his cheeks flushed. "Just wanted to know what your favourite tastes like."

_My favorite taste is you._

The archangel cleared his throat. "I'll, uhm, I'll be at my desk. Paperwork." 

_Oh no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [These are snowballs.](https://www.flickr.com/photos/betemaciel/4252303755) My plan was to go to the Christmas market myself and take a picture of them ... but, good Lord, was it crammed with tourists already. 
> 
> Up next: 03 - Nutcracker ♥


	3. Nutcracker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I shall post a small ficlet of Gabriel and Beelzebub each day until the 24th. There will be fluff, there will be smut, there will be everything in between.
> 
> Mostly, there will be high ranking ethereal idiots in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the habits of a very dear but messy family member. 
> 
> Enjoy.

  


### 

◍⊱•••• NUTCRACKER ••••⊰◍

  


Gabriel was an angel. Angels were, by design, unable to lie. Not even to themselves. They could turn a blind eye and ignore the truth, but they'd still know it's _right there._

Gabriel had stopped ignoring the weight of reality several weeks ago. He liked sharing the cottage with Beelzebub. The demon prince was resourceful, hard-boiled and fierce if needed.

He watched her from his desk. Once again, she sat on the sofa, naked feet propped up on the small coffee table as she entertained herself with television. She was eating walnuts, cracking them with her bare hands, making quite a mess. Bits and pieces were everywhere. Every corner of the sofa, the table, the carpet. All over her clothes. Gabriel seethed with the urge to clean.

Beelzebub giggled at her nihilistic cartoon of choice. The sound kick-started Gabriel's heart, making him sigh in defeat and close his laptop. She was _distracting_ him. Again. And she didn't even realize it. He leaned back and allowed himself to observe. Know your enemy, right? 

The way her toes curled when she laughed freely, it made him feel as heat coiled in his stomach.

Another walnut was cracked, half its shell disappearing between the sofa cushions. Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Bee, I'll ask nicely. Will you _please_ clean up after yourself this time?" 

"Sure." She waved her hand dismissively and grabbed another pair of walnuts, cracking them against each other, crumbs falling to the ground. She leaned her head onto the backrest of the sofa and turned to look at him. "Still busy?"

Gabriel's eyes fell to her stretched neck, how it moved when she swallowed the walnut. He wanted to kiss it, badly. "I think I could use a break." Gabriel said while rotating his shoulder.

She smiled at him knowingly. "Need a demonic hand to work your kinks out?"

He laughed at the double entendre. "Clean up first, you're all crumby."

"It's not like I'll keep these clothes on, will I?" She shook the front of her red jumper, sending the bits flying. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes and got up. He snapped his fingers, all nut pieces vanished. Without further ado, he picked her up. Her legs were wrapped around his waist instantly, just as her arms found purchase on his broad shoulders. 

"See, I don't need to clean anything, I have a personal maid-- Aa!" Beelzebub's breath hitched as he bit down on her neck.

"No, you don't. We _share_ this cottage, and you'll pull your weight." Gabriel carried her up the stairs and towards the bedroom.

"Says the angel who's carrying me-- _fuck_ , Gabriel!" He had bitten her again, closer to her jawline. She bit back, nipping down his throat, his moan vibrating against her lips.

He pinned her against the bedroom door, catching her brash mouth in a needy kiss, while he fumbled for the door handle. The fact that she rolled her hips against his groin wasn't helping, at all. 

Once inside, the archangel pulled the duvet down with one hand, then snapped his fingers again. Her clothes were gone, clean and neatly folded to the nearby chair. He lowered her onto the sheets.

"Gabriel! What the _fucking_ Heavens?"

"Oh, that." He straightened up and peered down at the bewildered demon now bedded in prickly nutshells. "Just a friendly reminder that you ought to clean up your messes." He stepped back, out of her reach, making his intentions clear that he would not be joining her.

"You wanker!" She growled. 

"Now forced to be, yes." He smirked as Beelzebub tried to wipe the sharp flakes off of her soft naked skin. "We can't use the bed like that. What _devilish_ development."

Gabriel watched her fume as he slowly walked backwards and through the door. Out of her sight, he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm his own arousal. He had to resist, just this once, to teach her a lesson.

But she was damned cute when she was angry.

What to do about _that_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: 04 - Cranberry ♥


	4. Cranberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I shall post a small ficlet of Gabriel and Beelzebub each day until the 24th. There will be fluff, there will be smut, there will be everything in between.
> 
> Mostly, there will be high ranking ethereal idiots in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, cranberries aren't associated with Christmas in Germany. I don't have that much of a clue about the UK, but I assume it _could_ be the same. Therefore, to be safe, I went with how I personally know cranberries, as a little snack, dried and sugared. 
> 
> Enjoy.

  


### 

◍⊱•••• CRANBERRY ••••⊰◍

  


Beelzebub, Hell's resident Prince who ruled over the realm of Gluttony, naturally loved food. Gabriel could feel it. Every time he brought her sweets, he could feel it radiating off of her.

"Try one." She said, holding a little dark red berry between her fingers.

"No." He insisted.

"Open up." Beelzebub tapped her index finger against his bottom lip.

"No." He growled and nipped her digit. He held her imploring gaze, his hands tightening on her smooth thighs. He didn't push it, he didn't want to anger her too much while she was in his lap. Gabriel held still underneath her, his breath ragged, even when she shifted atop him, pushing his cock even deeper. 

"Just one." She ground down, enjoying his desperate whine. "One little cranberry and I'll let you cum."

"You will not make me _eat_." The angel pressed out. 

"Then I'm also not making you cum." The Prince bent down, her lips against his ear. "I know you need to, you want to bury yourself in this demon and fill me up with your angelic essence." The way his breath hitched, it was delicious to her. "A berry isn't going to hurt you. Think about all the demonic fluids you've already ingested since you so love to eat me out." A telling deep moan broke from his lips and his hips jerked up involuntarily. "Come on, eat this one little berry. Be a good angel for me." 

"Bee, please." It was getting harder and harder to concentrate. 

She sat back up, the shift adding more pressure to his cock. "Please what?"

The archangel grit his teeth, he was so close, but she refused to _move_.

"Please," she clenched around him to get his attention, "what?"

Gabriel closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. "Please let me cum."

"You know what to do." She held the berry to his lips again. 

He groaned and balled his hands into fists. He wasn't surrendering to Hell. Gabriel was yielding to _her_ , the beautiful being proudly sitting in his lap as if it were a throne, with his cock set inside her, engulfed in wet heat. He was twitching with the urge for release. "Ok."

Beelzebub pushed the berry past his lips. "Don't just swallow it. Chew. Savour."

He did, his mouth was filled with the intense taste of the tiny fruit. In response, Beelzebub started to rock her hips again, beginning with a slow grind. She rose and sank back down, setting a rhythm. Lord, what a gorgeous wreck she'd make of him.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. 

"No cheating." Beelzebub bent back down to kiss him, one hand fisting his hair, the other gripping the sheets beside his head. She felt his hands come up to her rear, grasping her cheeks. She licked between his lips, into his mouth as he pulled up his legs for leverage to pound into her.

She felt his vice grip falter, as he tried to hold on. Overwhelmed, the angel was shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm as it tore through him. Beelzebub drank his moans as he came, every little sound. 

Gabriel's shaking hands moved up her back, gliding over her sweaty skin. He pressed her down against his chest to hold her, to anchor himself as his mind was blissfully blank in the aftermath. 

_The taste of cranberries will never be the same again._

"Can I have another one?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: 05 - Fire ♥


	5. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I shall post a small ficlet of Gabriel and Beelzebub each day until the 24th. There will be fluff, there will be smut, there will be everything in between.
> 
> Mostly, there will be high ranking ethereal idiots in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the flashback episode of 'Pining Frenenemies with Benefits to Lovers'. 
> 
> Enjoy.

  


### 

◍⊱•••• FIRE ••••⊰◍

  


It had begun roughly eleven weeks ago with cheese. Or rather the lack of it.

The absence of said cheese led to Beelzebub glaring at a nervously sweating archangel. Her arms were crossed over her tank top clad chest, fingers tapping her bicep expectantly. She was silent. It was terrifying and, he had to admit, strangely arousing. He was starting to regret his permanent Effort when he was around the demon Prince. 

The way her cute toes angrily dug into the carpet, _fuck_.

Gabriel wiped at his forehead. "Could you turn down the hellfire in the heating stove, please, it's quite unsettling." It was a blatant understatement, hellfire filled him with intense and base dread.

"No." She replied in one cold syllable. 

"Bee, I can't work like this." He huffed, peeling a paper from his damp forearm. 

"Apologize." Beelzebub harshly demanded in return.

"Bee." Gabriel whined with a pleading sound.

"You will use my full name. Have some _respect_ , angel. You said it yourself: We share this cottage fairly to have an even chance at observing the traitors. Behind these walls, there is a truce we have both agreed upon. We have to respect boundaries. The Limburger was _mine_ , and I was looking forward to enjoying it tonight with triscuits." 

"It smelled rotten!" Gabriel threw up a hand in exasperation. 

"It's a _delicacy_ , you philistine arse!" Her fingers stopped tapping and dug slightly into her arms. She was holding back. 

"Bee, I'm sorry." 

"Full. Name." Her brow twitched subtly, but besides that, the Prince didn't waver. 

"Beelzebub, I apologize for throwing away the cheese that was _stinking up the entire cottage_."

"Try again." 

The archangel groaned. "Is this how you torture people in hell?" 

"I don't torture, I _get_ tortured with paperwork. Forget all your celestial biases against Hell, they are utter horseshit. Now. Try _again_." She was not letting this go. Not this time. 

Gabriel stood from his office chair, held a hand to his (as of recent quite irritating) heart and cleared his throat. The pretentious twat. 

Satan, she wanted to kiss his stupid mouth so badly. He looked delectable, all irate and defiant. 

"Beelzebub, Lord of Flies, Prince of Hell, housemate of the Archangel fucking Gabriel, I am _sorry_ for throwing away your precious snack." It was biting sarcasm, but he said it.

"Look at that, a domesticated angel." She snapped her fingers, extinguishing the fire and curtly bowed to him. "Thank you, apology accepted."

Gabriel growled at her. "You're infuriating, you know that, right?" 

Beelzebub noticed how his pretty eyes precariously crept over her body. "The feeling is mutual, you brat."

It was that exact moment when something shifted between them, and neither could tell who had made the first move. Suddenly, Gabriel's hands were in her hair as he devoured her mouth, licking moans right off her tongue. Beelzebub's own hands were up his shirt and down his trousers. The weight of his hardening cock, it felt so enticingly hot in her palm. A droplet of precum wet her thumb as she stroked him. 

She wanted to taste the angel. So she went down on her knees and _did_. 

Gabriel wanted to pin her down, bury himself inside her heat and fuck her senseless. So he _did_. 

All the build-up frustration, it was taken care of. Neither of them realized, to the full extent, what had just happened. They had fought, yes, but they had also put into exact words what had been bothering them and worked it out _together_. They could have grown bitter and spiteful, as enemies should. They could have left. 

But they chose to stay and talk it out. To then ravish each other. Repeatedly. 

It kept on working that way.

But what about those pesky feelings?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you ever want to witness a grown adult man crying from the joy of eating Limburger cheese with triscuits, watch [this](https://youtu.be/thfZkdACvp0). 
> 
> Up next: 06 -Sleigh Bells ♥


	6. Sleigh Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I shall post a small ficlet of Gabriel and Beelzebub each day until the 24th. There will be fluff, there will be smut, there will be everything in between.
> 
> Mostly, there will be high ranking ethereal idiots in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's menu: Pining Demon Prince.
> 
> Enjoy.

  


### 

◍⊱•••• SLEIGH BELLS ••••⊰◍

  


On Friday, the 6th of December, the Lord of Flies was sitting at her desk, writing up the weekly report to Hell concerning the traitors. For once she was busy, even if there wasn't anything genuinely noteworthy going on. They were awake all night, talking, drinking and reading. Aziraphale left for what he had the audacity to call work in the morning. Then the former agent of Hell went to bed. Within one or two hours before his spouse came back home, Crowley busied himself tormenting his lush houseplants and wintery garden. That was the extent of his evil deeds these days. Besides that, he was baking and cooking every day and went so far as exchanging recipes with the local old ladies, to then watch his angel eat with such delight it was undeniably obscene. 

The Serpent of Eden, the very Originator of Human Sin, Beelzebub had to accept, was a happy househusband. How quaint. 

She signed her paper, dropped the red ink biro and slouched back in her bergère chair ([x](https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.thesprucecrafts.com/thmb/WumSU_qtRHWSGWkmmGHsOOymDpo%3D/926x0/filters:no_upscale\(\):max_bytes\(150000\):strip_icc\(\):format\(webp\)/Bergere-58deb2883df78c5162eef11c.jpg&sa=D&ust=1575644277496000&usg=AFQjCNEqy3A0U04xZiBIR6dJcfRY9G3b3g)) with a sigh. The issue with this casual movement was that it sent the row of red-painted sleigh bells she wore as a necklace ringing, loudly. 

"Could you take those off, Bee?" Gabrial asked with forced calm. He had tolerated the obnoxious fashion accessory for hours, but he had his limits.

"No. 'Tis the season, Gabriel." He leaned towards his desk with a shimmy, sending the bells into a jingle. The Advent of Christ had derailed into the most significant commercial annoyance of Earth, a true evil climax to every year, and she'd let Gabriel feel the full scope of it with a gratifying amount of Schadenfreude. 

"Bee, please." His fingers twitched. His usual orderly handwriting was suffering every time the demon even so much took a breath. 

"It's _festive_." Beelzebub lilted while sending her paperwork on its way with an unnecessary sweeping gesture and vigorous snap, bells tolling. 

"It's a fucking nuisance, that's what it is." Gabriel rubbed his face with both hands. "Take them _off_."

Beelzebub walked behind his modern office chair with bouncing steps and bowed down sporting a grin. "Make me." 

Gabriel turned around, cocking a smug brow at her. Their eyes locked in challenge. _Shit_. 

The demon Prince only had a second to react before she was being chased through the cottage by the archangel. She couldn't help but giggle as she wound around the corner into the kitchen, pulling out chairs from the dinner table to block his path. Gabriel, quite impressively, didn't care and jumped onto the table to catch up to her. She squealed and flung the terrace door open to sprint outside. 

Barefoot, Beelzebub ran over the frost-covered grass of the lawn to hide behind the gnarly cherry tree. 

"I can still hear you, Bee." Gabriel huffed a laugh while stalking up on her, arms at the ready to pounce. 

She ducked and made another run for it, but he caught her by the waist and tackled her to the ground. The angel sat on her middle to keep her in place. Her wrists were pinned above her head in the grip of his right hand while his left lifted the bothersome bells off of her. She struggled against his firm hold to no avail and decided to bite at his hand instead.

"You little shit." Gabriel quipped, sounding exhilarated, his bright smile sending a jolt straight to Beelzebub's heart. 

The angel leaned down to kiss her, releasing her hands which she immediately wound under his grey cardigan around his back. Their lips met in the cold winter air, the two of them surrounded by soft rime in the backyard of the cottage. No one could see them here, it was safe, she could have _this_. 

Beelzebub let go, relaxed, as the tip of her tongue met Gabriel's. Despite the rush of the chase, he was so gentle now, kissing her tenderly, engaging her in a sweet and hazy little dance for a long, long moment. It was too much. 

"You're shivering." He whispered against her lips. 

"It's cold." Beelzebub murmured and sniffed. It was only half the truth. 

"Let's go back inside." He stood up and held out his hand to her. She took it. _Too much_. 

Back in the living room, he peeled her out of her muddied clothes and took them to the bathroom to throw them into the left hamper labelled 'dark'. His own clothes were disposed into the right one fittingly labelled 'white'. He came back wearing a fresh tracksuit with one of her oversized jumpers hanging over his arm, the loose cable knit one in red ([x](http://www.storiesoutlet.com/P/f1dmhaen01d.jpg)), and helped her into it. 

"It almost looks like a dress on you." He mused.

"Oh, fuck off." The demon grumbled. "You know I don't wear those."

Gabriel didn't respond, not with words, but his face was always so expressive. He kissed her forehead. "Stay here, I'll be right back."

Beelzebub flopped down into the single armchair, one hand on her rioting chest. She did not expect him to return carrying a small tub. He put it down in front of her, revealing lavender-scented suds and water radiating heat. He couldn't be serious. 

"Come on, your feet must be freezing." He prompted, placing a towel and two small bottles of _something_ next to himself as he sat down on the floor, legs folded. 

"Gabriel, what are you doing?" Beelzebub asked, trying to keep her voice even.

"Washing your cold feet before you muck up the carpet even further." He explained, a self-satisfied smile playing on his lips.

He didn't even wait for a response, just reached for her calves and lowered her icy limbs into the water. Oh, Satan, _that_ felt good. 

Gabriel was true to his word, he lathered and washed her feet with lavender soap. It was absolutely ridiculous. 

"You realize you have a foot fetish, right?" She wiggled her toes, black-painted nails contrasting the white bubbles. 

"I don't." He replied and kissed the back of both her feet. 

"You do." Beelzebub poked him in the chest with her big toe. He caught her foot in both hands, warming it between them. The demon felt her cheeks flush. 

"No, your feet are just unusually cute." Gabriel insisted and nuzzled at the inner arch before snuggling his entire cheek against the sensitive sole of her foot. He closed his eyes and smiled.

An archangel was on the ground in front of Beelzebub. Her foot was on his face. Yet, it was not a victorious scene of the war that didn't come to be, it was something else entirely. For one, it was eerily _intimate_ , but it was also something she didn't dare to name.

She melted into her seat with a pleased moan when he dabbled a few droplets of oil onto her foot and started to massage it in steady strokes along the sides and up around her ankle with perfect pressure. 

The way those purple eyes looked up at her, it made the demon choke a little. That stupidly warm purple. But it was a thing of his side, the foot washing, the warmth, the _caring_. 

Anything beyond that was wishful thinking, nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: 07 - Silent Night ♥


	7. Silent Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I shall post a small ficlet of Gabriel and Beelzebub each day until the 24th. There will be fluff, there will be smut, there will be everything in between.
> 
> Mostly, there will be high ranking ethereal idiots in love.  
> 
> 
>   
> For as much of a cocky and brazen menace the demon could be, she looked wholly tranquil when she slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve written some soft shit in my life, but this is the softest. It couldn’t be helped.
> 
> Enjoy.

  


### 

◍⊱•••• SILENT NIGHT ••••⊰◍

  


The bells were banished to the outside of the cottage and hung decoratively on the terrace door. Gabriel made sure to open it as noiselessly as possible, sparks of static flicking between his fingers and the doorknob. It was almost 4 AM, and he didn't want to rouse any neighbours. No one besides the traitorous ethereal couple across the street wanted to be awake at this odd hour.

Not even Beelzebub, as it seemed. The cottage was quiet and dark. His heart sank. What if she wasn't even here? He hung his coat and pulled off his shoes in the narrow hallway. His suit jacket went onto the back of his office chair where he put down his messenger bag as well. 

The angel spotted that her red sash still hung from the standard lamp next to her own cluttered desk. She'd never leave without it, not for Hell's matters. The demon had to be in the cottage, somewhere. Gabriel tiptoed up the stairs to the bedroom and nudged the door open to peek inside. 

Beelzebub was sleeping, huddled in the thick royal blue flannel duvet, hair sticking out in every direction on the plush pillow. The angel leaned against the doorframe and allowed himself to just look at her. As much of a cocky and brazen menace the demon could be, she seemed wholly tranquil when she slept. 

Gabriel had made it back from Peru early. This was another factor to his work now: time. 

Not just deadlines and grace periods that had to be allotted. He was pushing himself to get work done faster so he could go back to the cottage and spend the luxury of free time with Beelzebub. 

After more than six millennia of his immortal life, time itself had begun to have _value_.

When they had agreed upon the cottage, months ago, he had expected she'd sabotage him at every given opportunity. She didn't, she kept her word. Later, he had thought the demon prince would distract him from his work, make him neglect it for the temptations of the flesh. Gabriel was positively surprised to find out that the opposite was true, that their peculiar relationship made him more focused than ever. 

His focus at this moment rested on the slumbering prince. They'd have the rest of the night to themselves. With a flick of his hand, the brass candelabra on the sideboard lit its tiny warm flames. He walked towards the bed and knelt down. 

"Hey, Bee." He whispered, a finger stroking a messy strand of black hair behind her ear. 

Beelzebub stirred, eyes fluttering open to reveal their sky blue. With a jolt, she sat up. "Fuck!" She fumbled for her phone. "I overslept? Gabriel, _fuck_ , I'm sorry."

The archangel blinked, confused. "Overslept? Are you going somewhere?"

"What? No!" She squinted at her too bright phone screen. "How long have you been back already?"

"I just got in." He reached out for her hand. "Are you ok?"

The demon took a deep breath, "Yes," then another, "I think." She ruffled her hair, groaning. Finally, her eyes seemed to connect to her brain again, after her third glance at the phone. "It's only four?" 

"I was done quicker than I had anticipated." The angel's eyes narrowed on hers. "Did you set an alarm for when I said I'd be back?" 

Beelzebub felt her face grow hot. Her sleep-addled mind was too slow for a comeback, so she had to witness how his curious smile turned first complacent, then _sweet_. She slipped her phone back under the pillow and scooted over to lay back down. 

Gabriel understood and lifted the duvet to join her. 

"You're cold." Beelzebub yammered, tugging the covers all the way up to her nose. 

"And you're wearing my shirt." Gabriel remarked as he pulled her up to his chest. 

Her face disappeared entirely. The angel couldn't help it, he laughed and kissed her black mop. "I don't mind, Bee." All he heard in return was a 'hmmph', so he peeled the duvet away. "Should I let you sleep?"

"No." Her eyes were closed, and her face buried in his chest as he smoothed a hand through her hair. 

They spent the last hours of the silent night kissing. Just _kissing_. Tucked into bed, lying on their sides, facing each other, breath mingling, enjoying the quiet. 

Even if she couldn't return his feelings, he'd still grant himself to at least have _this_.

The more he allowed it to impact himself, what he felt for Beelzebub, the more effort he put into his work. She was inspiring. The demon made him a better angel. As unnerving as Beelzebub could be, she also made him _happy_. He poured his gratefulness into the kiss as he embraced her, one hand on the small of her back, the other caressing the nape of her neck. Her breath hitched, a hand clasped at the front of his dress shirt. Gabriel could swear he heard a whine escaping her lips.

"Gabriel, do you..." she whispered into the dark.

In two hours, he'd be gone again, off to the Vatican. He wouldn't be back for more than a day since he was meant to be in Marseilles and then Oslo as well throughout the weekend. He'd be on an unforgivingly tight schedule, but this way he'd be able to stay the entire Sunday afternoon and night with Beelzebub. He'll make it work. Until then, he'd make the time they had now count.

"Ssh, we don't need to talk about it."

"Ok." She kissed him, breathlessly, "Ok."

It was _not_ ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have a loved one, try it, I dare you. Concentrate and pour your love for them into a kiss. It actually works. Trust me. My husband sobbed when I did it.
> 
> Special thanks to dear [AEpixie7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AEpixie7/pseuds/AEpixie7) for her feedback on this one. 
> 
> Up next: 08 - Mulled Wine ♥


	8. Mulled Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Sunday the 8th, the archangel had to find out that a drinking Beelzebub was a rambling Beelzebub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in Europe, you heathens, let them have some mulled wine and relax. 
> 
> Enjoy.

  


### 

◍⊱•••• MULLED WINE ••••⊰◍

  


On Sunday the 8th, the archangel had to find out that a drinking Beelzebub was a rambling Beelzebub. They had opened and heated the German mulled wine he had bought a few days ago from the Christmas market. Gabriel had agreed after some negotiation to have one mug of it, while the demon eagerly downed the rest. 

She obviously was enjoying herself, marvelling the heady taste of wine and spices. And she wouldn't stop _talking_. To be honest, Gabriel didn't mind. 

Good Lord, what would drunk sex be like with her, when she was all unfiltered and babbling? Beelzebub already had a knack for dirty talk, but what sweet nonsense would she'd mutter between her usual enticing filth? Gabriel bit his lip, and his imagination went wild. He wanted to hear all of it, and he'd have all night to find out. 

He could take this to the living room, to the wide armchair, drag her into his lap and keep her lips at his ear while she rode him, listening to every little sound, hoping against hope for words he shouldn't even _think_ about hearing from her. 

"Gabriel, why don't you ever sleep? There is no sin in sleep, I swear, I have it on good authority. You should try it. Maybe not now, when you're all busy buzzy with the birthday nonsense of your boss' immaculate overhyped child, but once the holidays are over." She rested her head on one hand, looking intently at him. "I could help you, you know, to relax. Sleep is good. I promise. It's relaxing. Unwinds your corporation, all the muscles. Fuck, you have so much _muscle_ , Gabriel." She leaned onto the dinner table, licking her lips, eyes dragging over his chest and arms. "I'd totally help you with relaxing all of that." She waved at him, mostly his chest, to then grab the simmer pot between them and refill her own mug. "I'd fuck you senseless and then tug you in, in our bed."

 _Our_. Beelzebub blinked at the word that had just slipped her tongue. It wasn't really their bed. He never slept in it, she always used it for that on her own. A quick glance to Gabriel told her enough to know that he had picked up on her choice of words. 

Best to keep rolling, pretend it didn't happen. Beelzebub took a big gulp of scalding hot wine.

"You know, Gabriel, you're such a strange angel." She set the mug back down and ruffled her hair, an endearing sight to the other, groaning while fishing for the right words. There were so _many_. "Gabriel, seriously, why don't you ever stay in bed after sex." Where the Hell was her tongue going with this? "What kind of angel doesn't cuddle after sex, you bloody weirdo."

"How many angels did you bed to know I'm the weird one?" Gabriel asked, face unreadable. Maybe because her vision was starting to swim.

"None. What the flying fuck, Gabriel, you're the only one, what the Hell! Why would you say that? I'm not a damn succubus." She took a slurping last sip of wine, frowning. "You know you're the only one, right? Did I ever tell you? I'm telling you now, you arse. You're the _only_ one." The mug was too empty. "I should go over and ask Crowley how to deal with this. Fuck it." She was up on unsteady feet, making her way to the front door.

"Bee, you will do no such thing." Gabriel laughed. Why was he laughing? His warm hands were on her elbows, guiding her. She'd let him take her _anywhere_.

"Last night doesn't count." She whined as he sat her on the sofa. 

He placed their mugs on the coffee table and sat down next to her, arm behind her shoulders. It was a small sofa, more of a loveseat, really, which was not a word Beelzebub needed in her head right now. 

"Last night doesn't count!" She repeated. "It was so _weird_ , Gabriel, I don't even know what to think about it. You wake me up with candlelight and kisses and, and, I can't fucking deal with this. How am I supposed to deal with this?" She let her head fall to the backrest, against his steady arm, to stare at the ceiling. 

"Bee, if I made you uncomfortable, you can tell me." 

"No!" Beelzebub groaned and reached for her drink, moving too fast, making her head spin. "Fuck, no, _Gabriel_ , no!" Her mug was empty, she grabbed Gabriel's instead and gulped it down. "I wasn't uncormf-- unconfoot-- I was fine! I liked it!" She snapped. Her tongue was starting to get heavy. She sighed, dropping her head against his shoulder. "Why can't you do that when you're not in a rush. Ugh, I don't even know how much of it was real or if I just dreamt it all." She closed her eyes when Gabriel's hand started running soothing circles on her back. "And before you even ask, yes demons can dream. You sleep, you dream. Cats, dogs, demons, doesn't matter." She repeatedly poked at his firm pectorals. "Gabriel, just let me fall asleep on your chest once. Just _once_. I won't bite unless you want me to. You like it when I bite you, don't you? Do I have to bite you for a cuddle? You're such a kinky angel, Gabriel, _please_ , never change." Beelzebub leaning up to nibble at his jawline, a hand roaming over the angel's body. 

He sat there, amused and charmed, listening to her unrestricted character bubbling through. Beelzebub wasn't making much sense, but she wanted to cuddle? How curious. He wrapped his arms around her.

" _Talk_ to me, wankwings." She mumbled into his neck. 

Gabriel realized that contrary to Beelzebub, he turned mellow from alcohol even though he only felt slightly tipsy. It did seem to affect him even further than expected, Beelzebub felt so full of love now, up close, in his embrace. How exhilarating. He kissed her forehead and nuzzled her hair. "Yesterday night was real, Bee, and you're adorable." 

"What?" I'm a demon prince!" So much for cuddling, she was back on her feet and pacing now.

"Bee, you're wearing a onesie." The angel pointed out, smiling fondly at her.

"We can wear whatever the fuck we want. No one cares! This is our little house, and no one sees us." _Our_. She let it slip again, something cold trickled down her spine. It was _the_ cottage, not _their_ cottage. There were limits. There was a line she was not meant to cross. "I can wear a onesie and relax. You're wearing that soft tracksuit again, and your ass looks so good in it, fuck. You relax, too, angel, unbunch your fluffy white feathers. Fuck, I want to rub my face on your wings." She fell silent and swayed slightly. "Don't ever tell anyone I said that."

He took a gulp himself, eyes following her as she pranced around the living room. 

"And this onesie is a pitch-black one, as dark as my soul." She exclaimed, swirling around.

Gabriel snorted. "Your soul is made of liquorice, I'm sure."

Beelzebub's chest heaved, her face was flushed. "My soul is _not_ made of lick-rice! La crois--! Fuck!" 

"Liquorice." Gabriel corrected with a smile.

"Yes. That." 

Beelzebub turned around, wobbling. She looked at him, long and hard and _searching_. The expression on Gabriel's face, he looked _besotted_. It was too much. He couldn't possibly feel whatever she felt. It had to be the wine. He was an angel. He loved indiscriminately. No favourites. 

No loved _one._

"I should go to bed." She gritted out, struck with a tight feeling in her chest. It ached.

Gabriel looked taken aback. "Sober up." This was not how he had intended this evening to go. Maybe they had to talk about this after all, clear-minded. "Bee?"

"No." The demon's voice was quiet now. "I need the hangover as a reminder of how stupid I am." She made her way out the door and up the stairs, feeling overwhelmed and numb at the same time.

Beelzebub could tell he wanted to follow her but that he was wise enough not to.

The next morning, Gabriel was gone.

She had ruined it. She had robbed herself of a night with the angel. Because she couldn't keep her mouth shut and _heart_ out of it. He had rescheduled the Pope to have some extra time with her, she knew, she had overheard him talking on the phone. _The fucking Pope_. For nothing, because she couldn't keep her shit together. 

Despite all that, there was a bag of liquorice on Beelzebub's desk. 

"You _asshole_."

She wiped at her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm _sorry_. They'll be fine. You can trust me. 
> 
> Up Next: 09 - Chestnuts ♥


	9. Chestnuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “One bag of the roasted chestnuts, please.” The archangel said while fishing for his slim wallet on the inside of his coat. 
> 
> “For your missus?” The woman asked, stirring the pan in front of her. 
> 
> “My… what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually went back to the Christmas market for research on this. Totally just for research. 
> 
> Enjoy.

  


### 

◍⊱•••• CHESTNUTS ••••⊰◍

  


It was already dark when Gabriel returned from Malta. He was strangely hesitant to go back to the cottage and face Beelzebub. The demon prince had been so emotional yesterday. He was worried it hadn't been just the alcohol, but that he had done something to upset her. He had called her adorable, but that was nothing new. He enjoyed messing with Beelzebub that way since she always bristled so beautifully at his compliments and she had never explicitly told him to stop.

The question still remained, how should he approach her now? 

One thing he was sure off: with a treat, it clearly would cheer her up, it always did. He didn't yet know if she even liked liquorice, so just in case that had backfired, he would get something else. 

Which is why he was standing on the small Christmas market of the village at a booth selling roasted chestnuts. All sorts of roasted nuts, actually, but chestnuts were a snack only available during this season. _Festive_ , as Beelzebub would say. 

The market was small in comparison to what he had seen on business during the past week, zapping in and ou of metropolitans. The shops that were set up around a big pine tree were shy of a dozen, but there was so much joy in the air. Old couples sharing hot drinks, children giggling on a tiny four-horse merry-go-round, humans of all ages in-between walking from booth to booth, chatting with neighbours and friends and family. It was homey, not overcrowded. There was familiarity connecting them. 

The young woman stirring the chestnuts, he knew her, she lived on the same street as the traitors. She smiled at him and tugged her bobble had back down to cover her ears. 

"One bag of the roasted chestnuts, please." The archangel said while fishing for his slim wallet on the inside of his coat. 

"For your missus?" The woman asked in a warm tone, opening the pan in front of her. 

"My… what?" Gabriel froze. He must have misheard. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I assumed you were married. How embarrassing." The woman was fumbling, grabbing a paper bag to fill with nuts, dropping it, picking a new one." You two act like it, for sure." She added with an awkward smile.

Technically, she was their neighbour as well. She might have seen them out in the garden every now and then, back when the weather was sunnier. They had spent several afternoons out on the terrace, talking about work and life on Earth, typing away on their laptops. "We do?"

"The bickering and jabs." The woman offered as an explanation, on the assumption that Gabriel knew what she meant. His confused look made her laugh. "You two are like an old married couple, but playful as if you only just started living together."

"Uhm." Gabriel cleared his throat. "We only moved in this summer, as you probably know, Miss?" 

"Just Linda. Linda is fine. So you haven't been living together before and went straight to buying a cottage in the countryside? That's quite a bold move."

If only she knew who she was talking about. An archangel and a demon prince, setting to the task of observing the two beings responsible for that fact that she was still alive. That everyone else around her was still alive. Gabriel and Beelzebub had never meant to get this attached to the cottage. But somehow desks and bookshelves were moved into the place. A bed for Beelzebub. A kitchen, also for Beelzebub. All Gabriel really used was his desk. 

But that wasn't true, was it? When the demon was cooking, he sat at the kitchen's dinner table to do his paperwork, for company. The sofa she had insisted on and tucked into a corner of the living room was the perfect spot to have her small feet in his lap and talk, simply talk. Beelzebub had such a sharp mind and pragmatic view on the world, her input had incredible meaning to him. They could talk for hours about the most mundane things, entirely unconnected to Heaven and Hell, and not tire of it. Trying to see something through her eyes and in turn explaining to her how he saw it himself, on his own, it was captivating. Baths and showers were shared more often than not. The bedroom was furnished and decorated entirely by Beelzebub, all Gabriel did was keeping the sheets clean and fresh, with a drop of lavender oil on each pillow to help her relax and fall asleep more easily. 

Linda was starting to wring her hands at his silence. "I can't help it. I didn't mean to poke, but you two are rather cute together."

"We are?" He frowned as his voice hitched. He was missing something here, he could feel it. The human was able to see a detail that was secret to him. 

"Are you feeling alright?"

 _Together_. The word echoed in Gabriel's mind. "I don't know." He replied, very slowly. "We had a bit of falling out last night, I think." He handed her a banknote after checking it twice to be of the correct value. "Keep the change." He very much preferred credit cards, even if everything build around them was Hell's doing.

"Thank you." She beamed and handed him the red and white striped bag of hot chestnuts. "And sorry to hear that." Gabriel didn't leave, she did not know what to make of it. Once again, the man was lost in thought, eyes fixed on the treat in his hands. "You're very busy these days, I suppose? I rarely see you. Don't let the Christmas stress get to you."

"Usually we're both very busy, working in higher management, but December is basically an all month holiday for her." He said, not even looking up at Linda. "I try to make time for her where I can."

"You're being sweet, too, back in time for dinner and bringing dessert. Now if that doesn't deserve I kiss in return."

Gabriel shook his head, a small smile tugging at his own lips now. He would taste the chestnuts on Beelzebub's tongue if he were still deserving of a kiss. He had to go back to the cottage. 

"Maybe the way to her heart is through her stomach." Linda offered, the old idiom making Gabriel laugh. 

"Her heart _is_ her stomach." The angel said, his smile now reaching his eyes. 

"So she goes with her intuition?" Linda asked, sounding intrigued. No one ever got to chat with that particular neighbour, she felt special.

"No, she's," Gabriel mused for a moment, a fond shine lighting his eyes. "She's creatively methodical but childish when bored." 

Linda laughed and tugged her hands into her pockets. "Sounds fun."

"She is." The angel nodded, more to himself than her. 

Linda, fascinated with how smitten the man looked, bit her lip to keep quiet. Still, he wasn't leaving. In for a penny, in for the pound. "You really love her, don't you?"

"I do." The words came over his lips with such ease, without him even thinking about them, that it didn't surprise him in the slightest. He had suspected it, for quite a while, but now that it was spoken into truth, the fact slotted itself into a place deep in his very core. 

"Gabriel?" 

He heard his name being called out over the Christmas songs and turned around.

The archangel almost dropped his bag when he saw Beelzebub standing several booths over, waving at him, a half-eaten chocolate-coated banana in her other hand. A rush of love hit Gabriel like a train. How did he not feel it before? She was surrounded by sweets, he should have noticed it. Maybe he had been too occupied with his own thoughts, thanks to the chestnut lady. That had to be it. 

She walked up to him, devouring the rest of her snack, swallowing quickly. "I didn't know you were back." She sounded nervous and shifted her stance. 

"I wanted to get you something." He held out the chestnuts to her in tense anticipation. 

"Gabriel," She accepted it, caught a whiff of the nuts, and licked her lips apprehensively. "I'm sorry about last night, the wine got to me. I didn't mean to leave like that."

"How is your head, Bee?" The angel asked, keeping his voice low. 

He wasn't even mad? "Still a little dull." Beelzebub said with a small grimace. It had been her own fault. Therefore, she kept the pain to let it run its natural bothersome cause. 

Gabriel leaned down and kissed the demon's aching forehead. In _public_. He stayed close, his amethyst eyes seeking a clue, to know if he had overstepped. "Better?" 

"Yeah." Beelzebub blinked. No, he was not mad. He was _worried_. How did she deserve him? She felt her own heartbeat pounding in her throat. 

She fished one of the chestnuts from the bag, peeled it open and took a bite. They were soft and sweet. She closed her eyes to savour the gift of the angel. 

Gabriel felt a swell of intoxicating love coming off Beelzebub and _basked_ in it. He'd get her all the food in the world. The most delicious treats, the finest chocolate, the rarest fruits, the strangest cheeses, if he would be able to experience _this_. 

"So good." She sighed, speaking with an untypically shy smile. 

If there was one thing he had understood last night, then it was that Beelzebub was seeking more closeness, intimacy. 

Gabriel was willing to give what she needed, to make her happy. He turned, indicating that he was about to head back to the cottage, and offered his hand to Beelzebub. 

She took it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was super easy to write and then The Feels got to me for the last third. It may not be up to snuff, my apologies.
> 
> Up next: 10 - Gold & Silver ♥


	10. Gold & Silver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Golden flecks ran from the base of Gabriel’s neck down his back, as if sheats of beat gold were pressed into his skin, artfully spread along his spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another longer piece for your indulgence. I'm not sure if I can this length up (no pun intended) since I'll be back to work on Thursday. I'll do my best, though!
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◍⊱•••• SILVER & GOLD ••••⊰◍

  


The previous evening, they had walked back to the cottage quietly, holding hands. Gabriel didn't seem scandalized at all, he even tugged on the demon's hand to have their arms brush while he kept talking about bullying the bishops on Malta.

"Maybe they'd listen more attentively to you if you just told them _who_ you are?" Beelzebub asked with a sharp smirk.

Gabriel faked exasperation. The thought did cross his mind, it used to be very effective, but that wasn't how things were being handled for the past millennium. "Bee, you know we can't do that anymore."

Beelzebub shrugged and adjusted her hold on the generous bag of chestnuts. "Spread those large wings and watch them cower. Could be fun." She pulled back her shoulders and dropped into her more masculine voice. "I am Archangel Gabriel, The Messenger of God! Work, bitches!" 

"I can't call bishops _bitches_ , Bee, come on." Gabriel said with a snort. 

"Not with that attitude." She laughed. "Those catholic priests are all God's bitches. Unless they can't keep their hands off the choir boys, then good old Asmodeus will--"

The angel held up his hand to stop her, quickly. "I really don't need to hear the details _again_." He paled at the horrors showing their ugly heads in his mind. "Could you send him my thanks for that, by the way?"

Beelzebub leaned her head to the side, regarding the angel who was still _holding her hand_ with newfound respect. "I will." 

He didn't get to stay for long. An hour later he was already gone after a too-chaste goodbye kiss. Beelzebub spent the night re-reading Faust and eating the chestnuts on the sofa. Out of sheer boredom, she even cleaned up the peels. Morning broke. Aziraphale left for work, Crowley closed the door, turned into a snake and curled up in front of the fireplace to sleep. A demon _pet_. She took her notes and tossed her ball pen back down, grumbling. 

She went back to the window and looked at the traitors' garish cottage. Gabriel wouldn't be back for several hours, blessing some odd churches in New Zealand and Australia and guiding the priests with stern words for the vespers. She had to keep herself busy, or she'd start gnawing at the furniture like a pent up dog. She grabbed her coat and keys, pulled on her Louboutin boots ([x](http://www.louboutinfootwear.com/christian-louboutin-man-safacroc-flat-black-ankle-boots-hotsale)) and left to buy fairy lights.

Around noon, lightning crashed behind the cottage. None of the humans noticed, as usual, but the resident demon was _wheezing_. 

" _Careful_ with that, fucking Hell!" Beelzebub yelled and flung an empty cardboard box of the purchased lights at Gabriel. "You could have smitten me!"

Gabriel caught the box with his left hand and used the right to smooth down his spiking hair. The static licking from his fingers only made it look worse. "What are you doing in the garden?"

"Decorating." She gestured widely at the two trees now covered in strings of lights. "You better pray your heavenly arrival didn't fritz the cables."

Gabriel snapped his fingers, and all the little red bulbs turned on. "They are fine, see?"

"Gabriel," Beelzebub sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "they are not even plugged in yet."

The angel made a noncommittal noise. "They'll look rather demonic once it's dark, don't you think?" 

“Demonically _festive_. Can't let the humans have all the fun with destroying the meaning of Christmas, now, can I?" 

Gabriel laughed. She was doing the opposite and didn't even realize it. He would not tell her that he could feel how the little house felt more and more loved with every piece of holiday decor she chose to adorn and deck it with. The cottage started to look as if someone really lived there and intended to stay. He liked that idea a lot. He stepped closer and tugged a black strand behind Beelzebub's ear, planning to kiss her, but she flinched away. 

"Fuck, your hands are freezing." The demon rubbed her ears that were already pink from staying out in the garden all morning. 

"Well, Ittoqqortoormiit is considerably colder than the South Downs." Gabriel explained, rubbing his hands together to warm them up. 

"You were in _Greenland_? I thought you were touring Oceania." She leaned back into him. Who cares where he had been, he's _here_ now. 

"I was, but I also rescheduled some other places." He wrapped her in his arms. "We have all afternoon together."

"There is _ice_ in your hair, Gabriel." She reached up and flicked at it. It didn't budge. She couldn't help but snicker into his shoulder. 

"How bout we take a hot bath together?" He asked, nuzzling her ear with his equally cold nose. 

"Sounds good to me." 

They went inside, leaving shoes, coats and scarves in the hallway. The bathroom upstairs was small, as everything was in this cottage, but it still fit a bathtub standing opposite the window overlooking the garden. Black and red star ornaments hung behind the white net curtain, Gabriel, charmed, shook his head and started the water. He still didn't trust Beelzebub to adjust the temperature, be had burned his feet more than once, and he was taking no more chances. 

He was about to tip the bottle of bubble bath into the tub when Beelzebub's hand seized his wrist. "What are you doing?"

"Adding bubbles." Gabriel said, stating the obvious.

"I can see that, moron, but why this?" She took the offending bottle from him and set it on the sink behind her.

"Because you like forest fruits?" Gabriel replied, eyebrows raised in question.

"I like the taste, yes." For a very brief moment, she paused, looking at his beauteous eyes. "Stick to lavender." 

There was no way she'd tolerate Gabriel's skin smelling of anything but his favoured lavender and himself. She could take forest fruit baths alone whenever she wanted. Which had turned out spectacularly wrong two days ago when she had been sporting a headache and was trying to decompress. The tub is a hand's width too long for her petite corporation, she'd have to uncomfortably tiptoe against the back end to keep her head above water. How _demeaning_. When she took a bath with Gabriel, everything fit perfectly. 

They undressed each other while the tub filled up, kissing and caressing. Beelzebub felt how Gabriel grew hard against her stomach, but the angel made no move to take it further. 

He got into the hot water first, which gave Beelzebub a perfect view on his behind before she climbed in herself, reclining against his chest, letting herself be wrapped up in his arms. 

Golden flecks ran from the base of Gabriel's neck down his back, as if sheats of beat gold were pressed into his skin, artfully spread along his spine until they reached his taut cheeks. It's the reason why Gabriel stuck to wearing turtlenecks, formal shirts and scarves, to hide it from humans. Gabriel didn't need to wear jewellery. He already had it, naturally, with his eyes like amethysts gold down his spine. Naked, he looked so precious, even if he was a pretentious and smug angel. Yet, Beelzebub was planning to gift him a little something for Christmas, since the way he dressed was _begging_ for a silver trinket.

She herself preferred accessories made from silver. _And the Almighty shall aid your defence with plenty of silver against all that is evil_ , as stated in the book of Job, was a load of superstitious and unfounded crap. Silver had no effect on demons. She enjoyed decorating herself with the metal, it worked better with her cool eyes and dark hair. Broaches and pins, a necklace of her sigil concealed under her shirt. 

She was still wearing the necklace at this moment, and the angel turned it between his finger while kissing her nape, letting his other hand slide further down. Beelzebub gasped as the tip of his finger graced the bundle of nerves between her folds. She let her head fall back onto his shoulder with a moan as he added pressure. He let go of her pendant and palmed at her breast, feeling the rosy nipple harden under his touch. 

"We should take this to the bedroom." Beelzebub demanded with a whimper as two of his deft fingers rubbed on either side of her clit. 

"No, we just got in, Bee." She could _hear_ the grin on his lips and turned her head to bite at his neck. It didn't phase him. "Let us stay and relax until I've made you come three times, right here."

"You're spoiling me." She already felt her abdomen twitch in anticipation. Beelzebub had to admit that she been desperate for the angel for the past few days, but there was not enough time, making her so easy now. Her hips bucked as Gabriel carefully kneaded her sensitive nipple between his fingers. He knew so well how to use his strong hands on her. 

Gabriel kissed her temple, lovingly. "Will you let me?"

Beelzebub bit her lip as she came for the first time embarrassingly quick, clenching on nothing. Fuck, she needed Gabriel to be _inside_ her. His cock felt so deliciously hard where it pushed against her lower back. Her hips canted into his hand, a deep and open moan escaping her lips as his two fingers effortlessly slid into her. She'd savour this, have a little patience. There was no rush today, she trusted him with that. 

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the suspicion that, maybe, not all readers know what ‘forest fruit’ means, depending on where you live. It’s a mix of raspberries and blackberries at its core, usually with more fruits added, such as strawberries, cranberries, currants, rosehip and blueberries. 
> 
> Btw, how the fuck did I end up with this feast of bureaucratic softness? It’s so unusual for this pairing, but I can’t stop! Someone, please tell me if it’s getting out of hand. 
> 
> Up next: 11 - Pine ♥ (the tree, mind you)


	11. Pine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We don't need a tree." Gabriel sighed, knowing it was a pointless argument and that the demon would do whatever she wanted. She was only attempting to negotiate out of courtesy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to slightly shorter updates, work will start tomorrow. Since I work in accounting for an online shop, you can imagine the circumstances between Black Friday and Christmas. 
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◍⊱•••• PINE ••••⊰◍

  


He had knackered her out. Beelzebub had lost count of how many the angel had made her come. All her limbs felt like jelly, every single muscle ached, and her mind was blissfully foggy. Everything around her smelled of sweat and _lavender_. Gabriel hadn't been holding back either, he had cum four times. At least. Beelzebub wasn't sure, at some point, it was all a passionate blur or lips and hands and praise and moans. She was sore and swollen and had the angel's essence loosely locked inside her body. She felt so full with it, nothing could compare. She _loved_ this sensation. All she wanted right now was to catch her breath and lie here, eyes closed, revelling in the afterglow. 

"Bee, we still have half an hour before I have to get ready for Russia." Gabriel spoke, voice low and calm, kissing a path down her sticky thighs. 

_Oh fuck._ Damn angels and their insufferable stamina. 

"Nghh." Her hoarse throat wouldn't work, let alone her worn-out tongue. Even the slightest touch anywhere close to her sex made her shiver and twitch. There was no way she could take more, as enticing as it was.

"No, no, I can see you reached your limit." Gabriel hushed against her knee before moving further down, kissing her calf. "How about I help you relax like this?"

Suddenly there were warm hands on her feet, slippery with oil. The smell of lavender increased, and Gabriel's thumbs pressed into her soles, mirroring their motions. The incorrigible bastard was massaging her feet. 

_Please, never change._

Beelzebub fell asleep and only vaguely remembered how he had tugged her in with a kiss to her cheek. She slept wonderfully, all the way until noon. 

She didn't have to wait for long, he was back during the afternoon. Him being able to wrap up all of Russia in 13 hours was impressive, she had to give him that. 

What she would not be giving him was _peace_ on a very particular matter. 

"We don't need a tree." Gabriel sighed, knowing it was a pointless argument and that the demon would do whatever she wanted. She was only attempting to negotiate out of courtesy.

"We, huh?" Beelzebub crossed her arms and pushed her chin out. "I want one."

"You're just trying to annoy me with more pagan decorations." The angel groaned, glowering at the kitschy wooden candle arch she had set up on his desk. It was the nativity scene no less, with a post-it reading "This is you." stuck next to the cutesy angel carving at it's top. He didn't have the heart to get rid of it. 

" _Successfully_ annoying you." Beelzebub smirked. "Oh, and don't think I hadn't heard how the Celts mistook you for Thor when you crashed into a feast of them with lightning. You're part pagan if you want to or not."

"Who even told you that?!" He slumped onto his desk, bedding his head on his forearms. It was a lost cause, but he wouldn't go down without a fight. "Bee, please!"

"Come on." The demon nudged his shoulder and hopped on the edge of the table, mindful enough to not sit on any of his papers. "You don't have to do a thing. I'll go buy it, set it up."

"Bee, you can't exactly carry a tree, your human corporation _theoretically_ isn't built for that. They'll get suspicious." Gabriel pointed out and sat back up.

Beelzebub shrugged and smiled at him. "I buy it, you bring it here, then." She offered, cocking a brow. 

"No, I won't." Gabriel carded a hand through his hair, fixing it back into place. 

"I'll have to tell them I do weightlifting." She flexed, wide sleeves slipping down her elegantly wiry arms. Was that a hickey on her left bicep? Oh. 

"There would be needles everywhere." The angel pointed out. "And who'll have to clean them up? Me."

"Well if we get a tree you'll have to do your part since I'll already decorate it."

“ _Bee_.” His voice started to get a harder edge. She was such a pain in the butt right now. 

"We'll get a potted tree, then." Beelzebub suggested. It was not a bad idea, but, no, Gabriel did not want a tree that only meant more work for him. "We can plant it somewhere safe after the holidays so it can get over the trauma of enduring you being all _bah, humbug_."

"Humbug?" He rubbed his face. "Have you been reading Dickens?"

"What, he's popular in Hell. Still sour we got him?"

"Yes. No. Bee, I don't care about Dickens! Where do you even want to put a tree? We hardly have space."

"I'll _make_ space." she turned and took in the living room. Their spacious desks made up almost half of it, that was true, but she could re-arrange the corner containing a TV, the stereo playing Last Christmas on repeat, the currently cluttered coffee table and the plush loveseat. The tree would halfway block one of the two windows, but she could live with that. "Next to the sofa?"

Gabriel crossed his arms, answering her with an incredulous shake of his head. 

"I can make it work!" Gabriel didn't budge at her whiny tone. "Oh, come on, I want to decorate a tree." The time had come to call upon desperate measures. The demon tried her best at using her sky blue puppy eyes and bat her eyelashes. "Please?" 

"Oh, no no _no_ , you cut that right out." _Fuck._ He knew she was playing dirty, but his heart frantically skipped a beat at the charming sight. She could be so damned _cute_. "You'll hang those dreadful black glitter dinosaur figurines on it only to mock me, I've seen you look at them."

Her expression dropped back to her regular, casually stoic face. "So your actual issue here is my taste in aesthetic?"

"You do dress very nicely, I'll give you that." The angel placated with a smile. "But the way you decorate our home--"

Silence. 

That one spoken word had such _weight_ , to both of them. It was the truth, was it not? Beelzebub slept, ate, bathed and _loved_ here. She hadn't been down in Hell for weeks. This cottage was where she lived now, not some dingy and moist basement locker room with no windows. A cordial cottage with a garden and fresh air and a beautiful, beautiful angel who'd kiss her goodbye whenever he left for work. 

"No dinosaurs." Beelzebub breathed. 

Gabriel nodded, his cheeks turning a gorgeous shade of pink. "Promise?"

"Promise."

_Home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember: Home is where your heart is. 
> 
> Up next: 12 - Carolling ♥


	12. Carolling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Young lady, do _you_ have a song request?" 
> 
> "Anything dreadfully commercialised masked as festive." The demon answered around a mouthful of pastry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since carolling isn't a thing over here, lets go for something else. Elderly men joining each other in song is a very common and delightful thing in the villages of my home region.
> 
> Enjoy.

  


### 

◍⊱•••• CAROLLING ••••⊰◍

  


Gabriel was gone, visiting 'every place Orthodox outside of Russia'. Which, quite frankly, was a lot of ground to cover. He wouldn't be back to the cottage for more than a day.

Clad in warm boots and her favourite coat ([x](https://www.emp.de/dw/image/v2/BBQV_PRD/on/demandware.static/-/Sites-master-emp/default/dwa4c294d7/images/3/9/7/0/397063a.jpg?sfrm=png)), a thick black-and-red scarf wrapped around her neck, Beelzebub made her way to the garden centre. 

She enjoyed the tacky decorations she saw on her way down the street, some neighbours really had outdone themselves. One even had a plump Santa Claus hanging from a window sill, holding on for dear life. Old Mrs Cobbleton at the crossroads was baking cookies, and Satan, did they smell good! A younger neighbour waved tentatively at Beelzebub, a thick bobble hat was covering her ash-blonde curls. The demon bowed her head curtly in return, surprised at the smile the simple gesture elicited. 

She walked for about fifteen minutes until she found the garden centre located between a bakery and beverages store. They had all sorts of conifers on display at the front, pines and firs, all shapes and sizes and, most importantly, _prices_. 

She halted, and decided to not make any decisions on an empty stomach and went for the bakery first. Not that she _needed_ to eat, but who was going to judge a Prince of Hell. Two doughnuts, a slice of cheesecake and a still-warm nougat croissant in hand she went back outside and spread her late breakfast out on one of the small bar tables. 

All three shops shared a parking lot and, in the spirit of the season, a bratwurst stall and mulled wine booth. You'd think no one would drink at eleven in the morning, but four elderly men seemed to have a great deal of fun already. All of them were dressed in red suits combined with a white shirt and green tie. Their shoes varied depending on the type of orthopaedic needs. The final detail was their Santa hats, _blinking_ Santa hats. If only Gabriel could see them.

Children had gathered around them, most likely their grandkids and associated kindergarten friends, giggling and sipping their hot chocolates and non-alcoholic punch. 

"That's the wrong tune again, Wilbur!" One of them nagged as a little instrument was blown. 

"Wash your feet so the gunk from your ears can trickle down, it's the right bloody tune." He blew the pitch pipe again, a different tune no less. All of them started clicking their fingers and turned to the children. 

"We are the Geritunes, and we love singing  
When we're together, the cords are ringing  
Singing, ringing and we're swinging,  
Let's tell you who we are"

"We _know_ who you are!" a little ginger boy quipped. He'll be fun at parties one day, Beelzebub thought to herself. 

"I sing the melody" The roundest of them sang with a bow, the fluffy white tip of his hat dangling over his face. 

"And I sing the base part" The shortest added, wiggling his brows. 

"I sing the tenor" A lanky man with thick glasses lilted in surprisingly clear high notes. 

"And my part is stupid." The one named Wilbur said with crossed eyes, grinning at the round of laughs. 

Their voices joined one after another, "That's how we sing our songs" They ended by harmoniously dragging the last syllable out. Little hands clapped eagerly. 

"See? I told you they'd love us!" 

"Shut it, Albert. They are as impressionable as your wife." The old men all laughed, clicked their mugs, and drank from their steaming wines. 

"Who of you little rascals knows a Christmas song?" Albert asked, bending down to their young audience.

All arms eagerly rose up, random song titles were cheerfully yelled at them by the children. 

"The Reindeer!" A black-haired little girl repeatedly demanded, jumping up and down. He winked at her and turned back to his friends. "We all know the lyrics to Rudolph, right?"

"You know it!" The three others nodded. 

"You know Dasher and Prancer and Vixen,  
Comet and Ajax and Pinesol and Windex" 

"Gilbert, hey, hey, woah." Wilbur interjected. Obviously, it was an act for the kids. "What was that? Ajax? Really?"

"Windex?" The tall man asked, fists dramatically propped on his hips. 

"Guys, I'm just trying to clean the act up a little bit." The old chap made finger guns at the chuckling children. Beelzebub herself had to stifle a laugh. 

They continued the song, sticking to the original text, dancing as much as their hips and backs would let them. If they were being paid for this or were just a hobby quartet consisting of retired men enjoying their well-earned pension with friends, the demon couldn't tell. 

Eventually, their eyes were on Beelzebub. "Young lady, do _you_ have a song request?" 

"Anything dreadfully commercialised masked as festive." The demon answered around a mouthful of pastry. 

"Lads, she knows what Christmas is all about!" They cackled and slapped the bar table they kept their drinks on. "Let's give her a modern classic. Frank, don't cock up the lyrics like _the last ten sodding times_." Whispered words were exchanged. They tugged their jackets and ties back into place and got into a choreographed position. One by one, they started humming the tune.

"I don't want a lot for Christmas  
There is just one thing I need  
I don't care about the presents  
Underneath the Christmas tree"

The four of them all gestured to the trees on sale with a wink. Beelzebub rolled her eyes.

"I just want you for my own  
More than you could ever know  
Make my wish come true oh  
All I want for Christmas is you ([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=InYvRyX2Fu4))"

No. Fuck _that_. Beelzebub choked on her snack and patted at her chest. She had only herself to blame. That stupid song was getting too close to her heart for her taste. She practically swallowed the last half of the doughnut whole and left the men with an excusatory wave. Unfortunately, she could still hear them while browsing the trees.

"Santa, won't you bring me  
The one I really need  
Won't you please bring my baby to me quickly."

The demon snorted at the notion of calling Gabriel' baby'. But once an idea was put in your head, you couldn't help but imagine it. He'd roll his eyes and grumble, petulant brat that he was at times, but he'd... let her. Somehow she _knew_ he’d let her. 

"This is all I'm asking for  
I just wanna see my baby  
Standing right outside my door"

Beelzebub sighed in emotional defeat and tapped her foot to the tune while looking around the medium-sized Douglas firs. She'd have to learn to let herself to just _feel_. Crowley once offhandedly had told her that humans were incredibly annoyed by the platitude of never-ending love songs. The egregious effect stopped only when they fell for someone themselves. Then the songs unfolded their true evil and started to _make sense_ , painfully so. The little shit had probably used human musicians to serenade Aziraphale for centuries, and she had no idea. 

Her eyes fell on a narrow but full Nordmann fir just the right size for the living room. They netted it up for easier transportation, accepted her money that didn't exist a minute ago and wished her happy holidays. 

"Need any help with that?" Gilbert asked, standing by the entrance to the outdoor tree sale. 

"No, but thank you." To prove her point, Beelzebub effortlessly lugged the tree onto her shoulder. Miraculously, the pot didn't lose any dirt.

"Oooh!" The kids were staring at her when she walked by, wide-eyed and in awe.

"A strong woman, I see." Albert said, approval plain in his voice. "Your man is lucky to have you, you can hold your own."

Beelzebub stopped in her tracks. "My man?"

"Yeah, the elusive tall guy, grey suits?" He reached above his head, roughly getting the angel's height right. "You must know him, he lives with you."

"You mean Gabriel?"

“So _that’s_ his name." Hushed words and money were exchanged. "You two don't even have a name plaque on your _nonexistent_ letterbox."

"You were snooping around our cottage." Beelzebub sat the tree back down and fixated them with a cold and inquisitive glare. The children gasped and flinched, the elderly men only shrugged. 

"Miss, this is a small village. How you two managed to hide your names for half a year is the greatest mystery to us in _decades_." Frank offered and pushed his frames back up his nose. 

"Maybe they are secret agents!" The black-haired girl quipped.

"Or aliens!" The oldest blond boy mused. There was a classic saucer-shaped UFO on his jacket, probably everything unknown to him was _aliens_. 

"Don't be silly, they are undercover cops!" The ginger boy wondered.

A dark-skinned little girl frowned up at Beelzebub. “Or _Mafia_.” 

"See? When we don't know something, our minds make up stories to fill the gaps. Now, you're a secret undercover mafia alien, and that's that."

The demon laughed full-heartedly. "Bella. I'm Bella."

"Well then, strong Bella, do you have another request?" Gilbert said, arms in an open gesture.

"Sing me a song about angel eyes." Beelzebub went for the first yet most specific thing that popped into her mind. There was no chance the old quartet knew--

They looked at her, grinning while emptying their mugs. "Boys, three, two, one!" They hummed a melancholic melody. The demon's instincts told her to _leave_ , immediately, but she wanted to hear the words of what they had dug up for her.

"Try to think that love's not around  
But it's uncomfortably near  
My old heart ain't gaining no ground  
Because my angel eyes ain't here"

Oh, this was worse, far worse. Beelzebub felt a knot forming in her throat at the softly sung yearning, presented in a smooth canon-like style.

"Angel eyes, that old Devil sent  
They glow unbearably bright"

She couldn't stop picturing Gabriel's captivating eyes even if she tried. Dark lascivious purple in the dim light of the bedroom, bright violet in sunlight, and cool, light amethyst on a rainy day. She'd never get enough of them but didn't dare to look deeper into those eyes, to try and decipher what their warmth meant when he was looking at her after a kiss, after sex, after feeding her a piece of chocolate. She couldn't just _ask_ him, could she? It was pointless. Gabriel was an angel. Of course, he'd say he loved her, but it just wouldn't actually mean a damned thing. She didn't want to hear it.

"Pardon me, but I got to run  
The facts uncommonly clear"

Beelzebub tried to swallow around the suffocating lump and blinked against the tears stinging her eyes. Being with Gabriel was Heaven and Hell both. All she could do was to push through the heartache and take what he was willing to give.

She took a heavy and trembling breath to compose herself.  
Beelzebub wanted to go home and rearrange the living room with unnecessary force to set up the tree. To stay busy and away from all of _this_. 

She'd still need to go out and buy more fairy lights and balls and garlands and tinsel. Maybe something Gabriel might like, as well.

"Oh, where is my angel eyes"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do yourself a favour and click here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5VlRG_7XBaM, this is where I stole the delightfully dumb Reindeer joke.
> 
> Yes, I do know that I bastardised Angel Eyes and changed it's meaning this way, but it’s Christmas. 
> 
> Up next: 13 - Wrapping Paper ♥


	13. Wrapping Paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He went into the living room, expecting the usual mess of tangerine peels and walnut crumbs, but something else entirely was all over the coffee table. 
> 
> Wrapping paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone up for excessively domestic archangel? I sure am. 
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◍⊱•••• WRAPPING PAPER ••••⊰◍

  


It was the early afternoon of Friday the 13th when Gabriel entered the cottage through the kitchen door, dusting snowflakes off his shoulders. It was quiet. For once, there were no Christmas songs playing on loop. Maybe Beelzebub finally tired of them, thank Heavens. The angel took off his coat and shook it, sending the remaining snowflakes flying through the hallway. When he hung it on the wall rack, he saw that Beelzebub's own coat was missing, so were her shoes. He loosened his tie and pulled it off while peeking around the corner to the living room. Bee wasn't here, but the vibrant red sash was still hanging from the standard lamp. It was safe to assume that she didn't go to Hell. She was probably out buying food or more knick-knacks for the cottage. 

Oh, right. 

Gabriel leaned against the doorframe, undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. He looked at the still undecorated tree and couldn't help a little smile tugging at his lips. Beelzebub did truly get a potted one, the smell of wet soil and fir needles hung faintly in the air. She had suggested to plant it somewhere safe after the holidays, together. A forest or park, a biosphere reserve where no one would be allowed to touch it.

Gabriel had other plans. The garden. They could plant it right here, in the garden. There was enough space for another tree. The gnarly cherry tree and the old birch were to the side and front, but behind the house, beside the rhubarb patch, there was a good spot for it. She'd be able to see it from the bedroom window. Even better once given time, when it grew taller. Then, the fairy lights would shine through the window during the Christmas season. What would it look like, having her in his lap, her damp skin illuminated by the dim red lights?

Gabriel tried to shake the enthralling image off, which was no easy task. Time to distract himself, then. 

He went upstairs and opened the bedroom window to air the room. Beelzebub's red and black clothes were strewn around the bed. He rolled his eyes but started to gather them up and brought them into the bathroom, wanting to dump them into the hamper for dark clothes. It was already full, of course. He emptied it into the washing machine, added powder, lavender fabric softener and started the program. He opened the bathroom window as well for good measure. He hung the scattered towels back on the wall heating he had switched off and cleaned up the plethora of bottles and soaps.

For a demon who did not care in the slightest for the state of her genuinely rotting skin while in Hell, she did turn out to appreciate taking care of her corporation on Earth quite a lot. Maybe because she didn't have to impress anyone with her purulent and painful boils up here? She had tried to explain it to him, what it felt like, living in Hell. She had been drunk and rambling, but it came down to a mix of peer pressure and a complete disregard for self-care. It was dark and wet and mouldy down there unless you went to see Satan, who was proudly seated on a burning throne of brimstone and hellfire. If you wanted to bath, you either had to go to Earth or miracle yourself clean. The first option was always connected to doing actual work, the second meant to admit that you grossed yourself out. Both were unacceptable. 

Gabriel had a completely different issue. He enjoyed physical workouts. Jogging, for the most part, which the village and it's footpaths along the forest clearing was perfect for. He craved to feel his corporation move, the strength of its muscles, the burn in them when he didn't get the breathing right, it was exhilarating. But it came with sweat and its natural odour. Beelzebub didn't mind at all, she'd lick it off his neck and hum in delight. Angels, on the other hand, wouldn't go near him if he was anything but spick and span since being clean was a sign of spiritual purity. 'Cleanliness is next to godliness', as they say. That included _not_ wearing cologne. 

To say it with Beelzebub's words: _fuck that_. 

He looked at the lavender bubble bath bottle in his hand. Taking scented baths together, it was something cathartic to them both, was it not? He set it back down on the edge of the bathtub. 

Gabriel returned to the bedroom to change the bleu-de-roi sheets out for dark red ones with a shiny black brocade pattern of intricate fleur de lis. The bedroom was Beelzebub's domain, for the most part. Therefore she kept a theme of royalty to the bedwear. She was a prince, after all. 

He continued to clean and air the cottage, making his way downstairs to face the kitchen and take out the compostables. Thankfully, Beelzebub had not been cooking while he was away, she had stuck to fruits and nuts as it seemed. 

He went into the living room, expecting the usual mess of tangerine peels and walnut crumbs, but something wholly different was all over the coffee table. Wrapping paper. A roll and various irregular cut rectangles littered around the sofa and armchair, some crumbled balls here and there. 

She had been wrapping a gift. In a matte silver paper with white foam feathers on it. And purple ribbons made from sheen cloth, judging by the bits and pieces on the carpet. 

She had wrapped a gift.

For _him_. 

Why else would she choose those specific colours?

Gabriel rushed to his desk and pulled out the bottom drawer. He frantically emptied it of his various notebooks until he could reach a small black envelope hidden at its back. It had not been disturbed. She did not know he had a gift, too. The sketch and receipt for his commission were untouched, as was the elegant business card.

The demon had gotten him something, without a cue, without obligation. There would be a gift on Christmas Eve, for the archangel of the annunciation, for Gabriel. That was a first. His heart _swell_ immeasurably.

He realized, after all these centuries, Christmas would not merely be work for him anymore. Not this year. 

He heard a key being turned in the front door and quickly shuffled everything back into the drawer. As casually as he could muster while his stomach was tingling with an unfamiliar buzz, he leaned against his desk. The sound of bags crinkling while being pushed through the door made him jump up again.

"Hey, Bee, need any help?"

"Gabriel!" Beelzebub exclaimed, nose and ears red from the cold. There was snow in her pitch-black hair, she made quite the endearing sight. She dropped her bags, kicked the door shut behind her and grabbed the angel by his neck and kissed him.

"Welcome home." She murmured against his lips and licked a chuckle off Gabriel's tongue. 

He could get used to this, he absolutely wanted to. 

He pulled away from her and took her coat. "So, you got a tree?" _And a gift?_ The angel asked, nodding his head towards the living room door.

"I did." Beelzebub said, toeing off her boots. "A Nordmann fir."

'What's in those bags?" _What did you get me for Christmas?_ He stooped over to peek at her purchases, but all he saw were masses of red and green boxes. Gabriel did his best to keep his twitchy hands behind his back. 

"Ornaments." Beelzebub answered in a slow tone and eyed him with suspicion. Something was up. She picked up the bags and carried them into the living room, her step minutely faltering as she spotted the wrapping paper she had left there. _Shit._

"For the tree?" _What is your gift for me?_ Gabriel asked, following the demon to her desk. 

"Well, yes, obviously." She pulled her chair towards herself with a foot and put one of the bags on it. The other was dropped onto her messy stack of papers. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." _I’m giddy._ "Just happy to see you." 

He kissed her under the mistletoe he had hung up between their desks almost two weeks ago. His fingers were carding into her snow-damp hair, suddenly so much more sensitive. This wonderful demon had a Christmas gift for him because she wanted to, because she had decided he was worth the bother. He deepened the kiss and wrapped her in his arms, his stomach vehemently prickling with anticipation for the holidays. Beelzebub tugged her cold fingers into the back of his trousers and chuckled at his gasp. 

He loved her _so_ much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel feels like a little kid who still believes in Santa Claus and I'm not even remotely sorry. 
> 
> Up next: 14 - Glitter ♥


	14. Glitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's, uhm, festive?" The angel tried, "Will _you_ clean it up after the holidays?" He added, not even trying to hide his scepticism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A demon, an angel, and _all_ things glitter. Click this link at your own discretion: all that glitters is gold ✭
> 
> This chapter initially was planned to be PWP, but I went for shenanigans instead. And a buttload of links. 
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◍⊱•••• GLITTER ••••⊰◍

  


A strange smell hung in the air when Gabriel entered the cottage at roughly 7 AM on Saturday morning. It was still dark outside, fairy lights of all colours shining and blinking merrily along the street and their own ones painting everything around his home in a sweetly demonic red. The bells on the kitchen door rang brightly as he closed it and made his way to the living room. The lights were on in there and, as expected, Beelzebub was bustling about. 

"What are you doing?" Gabriel asked, wrinkling his nose. 

The demon dropped her spray can and jumped off the armchair she had dragged to one of the two windows. "What does it look like?"

"Bee," Gabriel pressed, trying his best to stay stern while she wrapped her arms around his middle, "What are you doing?"

"Hugging an angel." She propped her chin on his chest and looked up at him from beneath her messy bangs. "Hi."

He sighed and gave in. He gave a kiss to Beelzebub's crown and ruffled her hair. "This doesn't smell healthy, Bee."

"I'm sure it's full of questionable and possibly poisonous chemicals, but _look_!" She tugged him towards the window. Every section of the gregorian window ([x](https://www.thermaframe.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Sliding-Sash-Windows-right.png)) was now framed with ice crystals. They seemed off, and it was too warm for them to have formed naturally, especially on the inside of their cosy living room. 

"It's, uhm, festive?" The angel tried, "Will _you_ clean it up after the holidays?" He added not even trying to hide his scepticism. 

"Sure." Beelzebub said dismissively. 

It would be Gabriel who'd have to scrub the window come spring, he knew it. "How many windows did you spray with this?"

Beelzebub picked the bottle back up. "Both here in the living room, the panels on the front door and I was just about to start in the kitchen and then move upstairs."

"Can you promise me to air the cottage when you're done? The smell is quite yucky." He followed Beelzebub into the kitchen where she hopped onto the counter for better access to the upper part of the window. 

“But it’s _cold_ outside.” For emphasis, she pulled her loose black turtleneck further up. 

"Bee." Gabriel crossed his arms. He would very much prefer a less artificial smelling house to return to tomorrow. 

"Fine!" The demon whined and got to work on the panels, outlining each rectangle with a sheet of fake ice. 

The angel sat down at the table of the breakfast nook. Oh, Beelzebub was wearing red hipster panties under her long jumper. He could see the bottom of her cute buttcheeks from down here. Gabriel leaned onto the table and rested his chin on the one hand and simply watched. Her toenails were still painted black, if she even did them herself after all. It could be just a demon thing or a miracle. He honestly wouldn't be surprised if she'd paint them in festive colours at some point and he'd find her with red glittery nails adorning her petite feet. A content sound escaped him, making the demon turn around and cock a brow at him.

"Enjoying the view?" Beelzebub asked, raising her jumper a tad. 

"You could say that, yes." Gabriel gave her an appreciative once over. Oh. "Bee, is that glitter on your jumper?" It was subtle, but it was there, shimmering silver in the light of the kitchen lamp. 

She snorted. "It's woven into it, don't worry, your manual laundry endeavours are safe." She gave him a small mock bow and grinned. "By the way, careful with that." The demon pointed at the table. 

On it was a bowl of star-shaped cookies sparkling with a dusting of edible gold glitter. They smelled of vanilla and sweet cumin. Gabriel felt the familiar curious urge to feed one to Beelzebub and kiss her to see what they'd taste like.

"Not the cookies, the envelope." She gave him a sly smile. "It's _loaded_."

"Really? You're going to prank Dagon?" He tapped at the Sütterlin writing, stating who it was addressed to. (x) Apparently, the handwriting style had been one of Hell's. (x)

"She'll know to appreciate it, it's not like I'm sending just anyone a Christmas card." Beelzebub jumped down from the counter and sat beside Gabriel.

"You're sending a _Christmas_ card to Hell?" Gabriel asked her and draped an arm around her waist to pull her closer.

"Yes. It's a good one." She picked it up. "First of all, it's exceptionally tacky." The front showed a white unicorn on a black and star-speckled background, its mane and tail were covered in mint-green glitter. Around its horn was a wreath of pine branches and holly. "Second, it can do _this_." She opened the card and it started blaring an unusual version of Santa Baby. (x) "I'm going to curse it so that it won't stop even if you set it on hellfire."

Gabriel laughed and shut the card. "How devious of you." The angel bent down to kiss her cheek, and Beelzebub leaned into it.

"But it gets better." She tapped at a small silver and green canister. "I've already filled the envelope with glitter, and I'll fill the card as well. The fun thing about glitter is that it doesn't even need to be cursed. Humans brought this stubborn stuff onto themselves. Dagon won't get it off for days."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed mischievously. "Maybe not even until the end of the century."

Beelzebub groaned a chuckle. "I can't believe you just said that."

"It's merely the truth, Bee." He said with a smile and reached for one of the cookies. She ate it right out of his hand and reached for the bowl herself. Gabriel expected that she'd offer him a one to eat himself, but her hand remained empty when she drew it back. Instead, she reached up and carded her fingers through his hair.

"And now there is gold glitter on you, _angel_." She said, eyes shining at the handsome picture he made.

"You little shit." Gabriel's hands wound their way under her jumper, finding nothing but smooth and warm naked skin there. She captured his lips in an impatient kiss, slowly climbing into his lap. She tasted like the sweetest little thing.

"How much time do we have?" Beelzebub asked, her teeth gracing at his jaw. 

Gabriel peeked up at the cuckoo clock hung on the wall above the toaster and egg cooker. "Only an hour." He hissed as the demon playfully bit down on his neck. 

"Let's make the most of it." She said and slid down to the ground, nuzzling at the angel's cock through his suit pants as she undid the belt, button and finally the zipper. Eagerly she licked at his half-hard cock as soon as she had freed it from its formal confinements. She felt it twitch against her tongue, filling for her. Gabriel gripped the edge of the table as she swallowed him down. 

"Fuck, Bee." he gasped, his other hand pushing into her hair. Not to push her down, she'd control the pace. Just for contact. Her deft tongue was doing such marvellous things to his cock, dragging along his length with perfect pressure.

Beelzebub took her time and kept him on edge until the very last minute of the hour she'd been given. The angel was a mess by the end of it, panting and squirming in his seat right unto the moment she took mercy and let him cum. Gabriel came with a shout, his knuckles were white where they gripped at the cushions of the bench, his hips kept jerking up into her welcoming mouth. Beelzebub sucked his oversensitive cock clean, never wanting to waste a single drop, and licked her swollen lips. She lay her head on his thigh to look up at him with a satisfied smirk. 

"You're running late."

“ _Fuck._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was a kid my Vati (dad) gave me a bottle of ice crystal spray. I went wild with it. I never got my hands on the stuff ever again, haha. 
> 
> Want to make glitter cookies yourself? Here is a recipe. My personal tip: add one extra egg yolk and they’ll become deliciously soft and crumbly that way. 
> 
> RIP TotalBiscuit, you once provided us with the most perfect Sanat Baby rendition. 
> 
> Up next: 15 - Laughter ♥


	15. Laughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the morning of the third Advent Sunday, Gabriel was stacking clean clothes into the closet of the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter I've re-written in its entirety because the muses said so. Apparently laundry is cute and sexy now? 
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◍⊱•••• LAUGHTER ••••⊰◍

  


There were several things Beelzebub found amusing about the archangel. Certainly at the top of her list was the fact that he had a laundry room in the cottage, across the hallway of the bathroom. He had strung up several clotheslines in the back half of the room to hang their laundry, and yes, that included Beelzebub's. She had asked him multiple times if he really wanted to wash her clothes as well, she could just miracle them clean, but he only huffed in exasperation and fell into a lengthy explanation of how clothes are material objects on Earth, that they were made to be worn and washed and appreciated as the physical creations they were. He also went on a tangent of how he detested Crowley's habit of willing clothes into being. According to Gabriel, nothing felt better on his corporation than a perfectly tailored suit, in strictly speaking terms of fashion, as he added with a wink. 

The best part of it had been that he honestly explained all of this to Beelzebub while ironing a crease into her formal pinstripe trousers. 

The front part of the laundry room consisted of a table to fold clothes on, an ironing board including the hot device itself and a closet with a ridiculous amount of washing agents. Washing powders, liquid washing detergents for specific fabrics and colours, one even solely for the purpose of washing black clothes, pre-wash sprays, bleaches of various strengths, disinfectant agents and boxes of washing machine care products. 

The angel was such a strange but charming creature. 

On the morning of the third Advent Sunday, Gabriel was stacking clean clothes into the closet of the bedroom. Beelzebub sat on the bed, enjoying the view of his backside as he bent down to put away her underwear into the bottom drawer. He had folded each small piece into a precise rectangle. If anyone knew _this_ little detail. Her jumpers and trousers went into the shelves above. Most of his own clothes were orderly hung on wooden suit coathangers so he could fold his pants and clamp them down, matching each to its jacket without the ironed crease being disturbed. A handful of blouses and shirts of the demon were hung on hangers as well. No matter how much Beelzebub insisted that she didn't care all that much about wrinkles. 

Gabriel cared, and he would not be stopped from doing this for her. All he wanted in return was a happy Prince who could relax in a fresh jumper with preferably a cute red or black pantie underneath. Just like in this very moment. 

"So much lavender." The demon remarked behind him. 

"Lavender is useful, it keeps moths away." Gabriel explained while hanging a small bag of dried lavender flowers on the inside of the closet door before closing it. 

“It’s _purple_.” Beelzebub stated, a bright smile on her face, lighting up her blue eyes. She hadn't meant the flowers, she was referring to the plethora of lavender coloured shirts, ties and socks. 

"What are you trying to say?" The angel asked, climbing onto the bed and into her lap.

"That you have a favourite colour, nothing more." Her hands slipped under his sweatshirt, stroking at his sturdy abdomen. 

_I also have a favourite demon._ "I am allowed to have that." He pulled his shirt off and leaned down to kiss her, enticed by her exploring hands. 

Her hips languidly rolled up against him. It was clear what her intention was, so Gabriel moved one hand lower to tease her through her black pantie. "Bee?" He spoke between kisses. "What has been on your mind to cause this?" He dragged one finger along the ridge between her labia, the fabric was more than just a little wet already. 

"I was thinking about something I wanted to ask you." She pushed against his hand with a quiet moan. 

"Oh?" Gabriel drew back and reached for her jumper to undress her. 

Beelzebub threw the jumper to the ground and drew the angel closer with her legs. "Have you ever considered going female?"

"No, I always had my corporation this was, I quite like it." He kissed a soft path down her chest. "Why do you ask?"

"I was wondering what you'd taste like." The demon gasped as he gently sucked one nipple between his lips before moving the next, making her squirm. They were so blessed _sensitive_. "How often I could make you cum only using my mouth?" She added. 

"You can test that just the way I am. Don't underestimate my stamina, Bee." Gabriel hooked a finger into her underwear and pulled it down, letting it dangle from her left foot. 

"Careful, one day, I might try to find your real limit." She watched him kiss her stomach further and further down. 

"I'm counting on that." Gabriel pressed his lips to her mound.

"You can't just say things like that."

"I think I can." At that, he slipped two fingers inside her, making her twitch with the sensation of it. "Just out of curiosity, why do you prefer _this_ version?"

"I like how those who - _ah, fuck_ \- don't know me yet underestimate me. I know I'm tiny--"

"You're petite." He dipped his tongue between her wet lips, savouring the sweet sound she made as she keened. 

"That's just fancier word to say it." Beelzebub groaned and opened her thighs for him wider. 

"You're a prince, let me use fancy words to describe you." The angel began to set a rhythm, pulling his fingers out and pushing them back inside in quick succession while his tongue still barely touched her where she wanted it most. 

"Whatever. I'm _petite_ , and humans are automatically more trusting towards me. It helps with work." Her hips jerked up, seeking more of the angel's mouth on her. "It's also highly entertaining to see demons cower in fear at this short female corporation." 

"It is quite sexy, yes." He _finally_ lapped at her clit and was rewarded with a deep moan. "And you also like how sensitive it is, admit it." Gabriel curled his fingers inside her, making her arch off the bed.

"I didn't know until you--" Beelzebub bit on a finger to keep herself from talking.

Gabriel didn't push her on the matter after that, he probably had heard more than the demon was comfortable with and focused on her pleasure, keeping his tongue delving between her lips, circling around and flicking at her clit.

"Don't stop." Beelzebub mewled, her right hand gripping the angel's hair to keep him in place. "Fuck, you're so good." 

He felt the first twitches around his fingers, she was close already. He let himself be guided by her hand to find the perfect pace and pressure on her heated sex, adjusting to the rhythm of her rolling hips that kept bucking onto his fingers.

There it was, her delicious climax. Her insides clenched down on Gabriel's fingers, he felt her shudder and hummed against her clit. He sped up his ministrations, suckled on the now swollen bundle of nerves and dragged her into a second orgasm without any warning.

He eased her through it, slowing his tongue and finishing off with one last generous lick. 

Gabriel sat back and wiped at his mouth. Good Lord, she was beautiful like this. He didn't get to relish the view for long, Beelzebub tackled him down and nipped down his chest before biting at his hip bones. She pulled his sweatsuit trousers down and off his legs. She was about to take him into her mouth when she started chuckling.

This certainly had not been a reaction he would have expected. "Bee?"

She fell over onto the duvet and giggled a single word, "Glitter!" 

There was still glitter on the neatly trimmed curls of his crotch. Beelzebub was holding her stomach with laughter. Either glitter was such a natural evil that not even an angel's miracle got it off, or Gabriel had kept it on purpose.

Both explanations were hilarious.

He couldn't get enough of Beelzebub's lively laughs. How could a demon be filled with so much joy? Weren't they supposed to be… broken? Damned? 

Beelzebub was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. Her cheeks had perked into round, pink apples. Gabriel's chest felt so full with love for her, he feared that he'd burst.

He brought her back into his arms to kiss that giggling mouth and drink the mirth from her lips. The demon's arms instantly wound around his broad shoulders. He picked her up with his hands lifting her by the thighs and carried her into the bathroom.

"You know this was you, right? Yesterday, when you--"

"I know!" She squealed and pressed her forehead to his neck. "And no, I'm not sorry at all. It suits you, angel."

He set her down on her feet and slapped her backside. "At least help me to get it off again."

"Why would I?" She bit her bottom lip, chest shaking with a snicker.

Gabriel had to miracle himself clean the day before, and it didn't feel right, it never does, and the fact that he had missed this only made it worse. 

What he needed now was a real shower, with Beelzebub. The glitter still wouldn't come off entirely, but the angel couldn't care less while his cock was buried flush in this gorgeous happy demon who had her teeth on his throat. He had lifted her up against the shower wall, keeping his thrusts slow and deep. She still kept chuckling every now and then, and Gabriel could feel _that_ around his cock. 

He loved her. He knew, because her laughter was suddenly the most significant sound to his ears that were as old as time itself. 

He wondered if she were ticklish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel doN'T DO IT!
> 
> Anyways, I turned Gabriel doing the laundry into foreplay for smut. Peek domestic. I'm so proud. Let me take this moment to thank my dearly beloved husband (I know you're reading this). 
> 
> Up next: 16 - Ice Storm ♥


	16. Ice Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It doesn't sound fine." She snuggled up to him, hands finding their way under his suit jacket. "The weather in England is supposed to be a temperate climate, a muddy mix of sun and fog and rain, not _fucking_ storms in the middle of winter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wants some sweet hurt/comfort? Gentle Gabriel? Anyone?
> 
> Enjoy.

  


### 

◍⊱•••• ICE STORM ••••⊰◍

  


After having spent most of Sunday with Beelzebub meant Gabriel was even more busy on Monday. He didn't think he'd be able to make it home at all, but just a few minutes after 11 PM he appeared in the back of the garden.

Only to then be almost pushed over by the sheer strength of the sudden wind. Gabriel's loose scarf was ripped away and tangled in the cherry tree. He struggled to unknot the precious fashion piece but managed it and hurried through the door into the kitchen. He closed it, but right before it would shut the wind pushed against with such force that smaller objects were blown off the counter and table. Gabriel locked the door _twice_. 

He walked into the hallway, picking muddy leaves of his coat and pulled off his shoes. He'd have to get it professionally cleaned, he couldn't wash this properly himself. With a sigh, he went and hung the drenched coat over his office chair in the dark living room. 

At least his little gift was still unharmed. He wiped it clean with a paper tissue and made his way upstairs, Beelzebub would surely be asleep at this odd hour. 

Except that she wasn't. She lay curled up on the bed, but her whole posture reeked of distress. The candles on the sideboard kept flickering with a slight cold draft in the air, caused by the unrelenting winds outside. 

"Are you alright, Bee?" Gabriel asked and made his way up to her. 

"No." She answered, the word muffled by the duvet she had pulled up over her nose. 

He sat down on the bed and lay a hand on the middle of the plush heap she made. "I've brought you a little something."

A spark of love flashed off the demon. She opened her previously squeezed shut eyes which then turned wide. "A flower?" She slowly sat up, keeping the duvet around her shoulders. 

"A poinsettia, a red Christmas Star." He held it up. "I thought you'd like the colour." Gabriel was well aware that it was Beelzebub's favourite. 

"I do." She confirmed and leaned against him, trying her best to relax. "And it has gold glitter sprayed on it."

"You seem to like that, too." He smiled at her. "Bee, what's troubling you?"

"There is no weather in Hell." She offered as a passive explanation, wrapping herself up even further. 

"You're not used to this, are you." Gabriel sat the vibrant plant on the right-side nightstand and stroked her back. "Do you want to spend the night in Hell? I can understand." To be fair, he travelled by lightning and storms had never really worried him.

"No, fuck no." She pressed her face to his chest. "I'm _not_ leaving our cottage."

She needed the cottage. It was her home; it was Gabriel's home. There was no way she'd leave it to withstand this storm and _hide_ like a coward. She'd stay right here, in her bed under the Mansarde roof and listen to nature running its course on this speck on Earth. She'll get used to it. The cottage was built from stone, it wouldn't just blow over, right? 

Something small crashed against the roof tiles, startling her. 

"There is no need to worry, this house has been blessed by an archangel." Gabriel drew the demon bundle into his arms and kissed her head. She was wearing the sweater he had discarded yesterday, but this was the wrong moment to comment on it.

"I'm not putting my money on protection from Heaven, Gabriel." She was a demon, after all.

"We'll be fine." He squeezed her smaller frame.

"It doesn't _sound_ fine." She snuggled up to him, hands finding their way under his suit jacket. "The weather in England is supposed to be a temperate climate, a muddy mix of sun and fog and rain, not _fucking storms_ in the middle of winter." There was no weather in Hell. It was a basement deep down, no windows, no roof, no air-ducts to carry a sound like this into the dark, damp rooms and hallways. "I don't like this." 

As if on cue it started hailing, the sound a terrifying roaring rush, the louder impacts making her twitch.

"Bee, are you scared?"

She didn't answer. Why would Gabriel even ask that? It was obvious! She knew he wasn't stupid.

"Wait here, ok?" A small peck to Beelzebub's cheek and the angel and his warmth was gone.

Fuck. She should have just confessed to it. Thunder crashed, far too close after lightning. She drew the duvet over her head and flopped back down on the bed, peeking at the glittering plant through a tiny hole she kept open for air.

Gabriel had grabbed a clean, comfortable tracksuit off the clothesline and changed into it before he made his way downstairs. He should not be using up his celestial wages on this during the Christmas season, but right now there were more pressing matters to be handled then reprimanding letters arriving on his desk. Letters he'd have to write and address to himself no less. 

He made his way around the ground floor, closing all window shutters that were rattling against the walls outside with precise miracles. Every piece of the garden and door decorations Beelzebub had hung up were willed into place. Nothing would disturb this home under his watch. He knew it wasn't fair towards the other inhabitants, not the village, but he had a feeling the ethereal couple across the street had blessed everything within a five-mile radius. They loved this place immensely, according to his files _and_ their telling faces.

He went into the kitchen, trying to find something that would soothe the agitated demon upstairs. Humans tended to use alcohol for that, but that made Beelzebub first very talkative, and then almost anxious. Gabriel pulled out his phone and looked up other options. Peppermint or chamomile tea were the top suggestions, so he opened the cabinets. Gabriel did find tea but only made from forest fruits. He looked at his phone again. Warm milk, even he could do that. He took her favourite shiny black mug, filled it with milk and set it in the microwave before fiddling with the buttons. It started to buzz and rotate eventually. Another few taps at his phone told him the worst part of the storm would last at least another two or three hours, after that it would quiet down into a simple windy day with snow that wouldn't keep. 

The microwave dinged. Gabriel took the milk, added a generous amount of honey and turned towards the door. 

He'd have to leave her alone before the storm was over, but until then, he'd do anything she needed to calm down.

Gabriel made his way back upstairs, snapping his fingers to close all shutters on this level as well, and walked back into the bedroom. He sat down next to her and patted her back through the duvet. She pulled it off her head to look at him.

"You're still here?" She asked, hope laced into her words, as she sat up all huddled between pillows and blanket. All she knew was that he had very little time, she didn't even expect him to drop in at all. 

"Yes. Here, drink this, it'll help you. I think." He placed the mug in her hands, and she took a sip.

"Did you make this?" Beelzebub inquired, her hands wrapping around the warm mug.

The angel's brows rose in question. "Is it that bad?"

"It's very sweet." She took another sip of the steaming beverage. "Not bad at all."

It must be good, judging by the intense love coming off Beelzebub as she drank. If she'd react to warm milk like this, what would it feel like if he had cooked something for her?

"I'll be right back."

She was worth the risk. It was selfish, and he could get into a ton of trouble if the wrong angels asked the right questions, but Gabriel's aching heart told him loud and clear that Beelzebub was worth it. 

Gabriel went back into the laundry room and pulled out his phone. She was _worth it_. He took a deep breath, scrolled through his contacts for Micheal and hit call. 

On the other side of the hallway, a demon could hear bits and pieces of his conversation, depending on wind and hail.

"Dick move?" She heard him say in exasperation, "What? No, my permanent male effort I made for this corporation does not qualify as a reason to call everything I do a dick move." 

What arse was he talking to? His corporation was _fine_. 

"Fuck you, Michael." 

Ah. That explained it. 

"Just, help me out, I'll owe you." There was a pause as he presumably listened to the reply. "Yes, anything you want." 

What could that wanker possibly ask of Gabriel? 

"Answers? Whatever for?" She heard Gabriel groan in frustration. "Yes, ok, I'll explain it to you one day. But, first, help me, please." 

He'd never heard him plead like _that_. Beelzebub gulped down her hot milk, feeling irritated. 

"Yes, three or four hours until the storm has passed over the South Downs. I can't leave right now. Yes. Yes, I can do that." 

No. Gabriel couldn't be serious!

"Thank you, Mikey." He sounded so relieved. What the Heavens did he agree to?

He rushed back down the stairs. When the angel returned, he brought his laptop with him and lay it on the nightstand next to the Christmas star. She scooted over, making room for him in bed. 

"What did you just do?" Beelzebub asked with a deep frown setting into her brow.

Gabriel leaned against the headboard, arms open and welcoming. "Bee, I promise you, we'll be fine, the cottage will be fine." Gabriel patted at his chest. "Now, come here."

"Will _you_ be fine?" She didn't move, her blue eyes searching his purple ones. 

He took her mug and set it aside and pulled her close to kiss her forehead. A hand was carding through her tousled hair, slowly moving down until his fingernails tenderly scratched the back of her neck. 

"I'll stay the night, but I'll have to get quite a bit of paperwork done in exchange. Can you rest while I'm typing?" 

Thunder cracked and boomed outside, she flinched and curled an arm tightly around his middle.

"I'm here, Bee." Gabriel manifested his wings, holding them like a dome around the frightened demon. The candlelight painted them gold and cream, and it was _too much_.

Beelzebub closed her eyes, bedding her head on his sternum. The angel was warm and solid and _here_ , and how could she ever repay him. "I don't deserve this."

"You don't get to decide that, Bee, I do." At that, he lowered his wings. His right blanketed the demon to while he let his left hang off the bed. 

His hand kept stroking her hair. He took the laptop with his left, flipped it open and started to type one-handedly. 

Gabriel had put her first. Before work. Her heart kept beating faster and faster as she was trying to wrap her mind around what it meant. 

She felt warm under his wing, safe despite the storm outside pounding against the roof. She felt, for the first time in thousands of years, cared for. It was terrifying, in its own way. The words 'I love you' never hung more heavily on her tongue, begging to be spoken. 

She fell asleep, thinking, believing, that maybe there was a chance after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I swear, we're getting there. Let those idiots process. Let the acceptance of hope trickle in and watch with me how they give in, slowly but surely. There are eight days left. All of us can and will endure this. 
> 
> Up next: 17 - Ornaments ♥


	17. Ornaments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he came back in the late afternoon, Gabriel was surprised to see the Christmas tree fully decked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came home yesterday to my husband setting up our tree. No, he did not know I'd be posting _this_ today.
> 
> Sorry for the delay, I've been exceptionally busy. 
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◍⊱•••• ORNAMENTS ••••⊰◍

  


On the morning of the 17th, the Prince of Hell woke up to the most precious warmth she had ever felt. Her arm wasn't as tightly wrapped around Gabriel's middle as it has been when she fell asleep during the storm, no, her hand now lay on his stomach, with Gabriel's right hand on top, his thumb smoothing delicate patterns into her skin. 

"Wake up, Bee." He whispered and squeezed her hand. 

"No." Beelzebub grumbled and draped one of her legs over his. She could swear the shutters had been closed tight by Gabriel during the night, but dim sunlight shone through the window. 

"I can see you're comfortable, but I have to get ready to go to East Asia."

"Let them have their own religions, asshole." The demon grumbled while pulling up the side of his sweatshirt to press lazy kisses into the soft skin of his ribs. 

Gabriel jerked away from the tickling sensation. "Bee, you know I'm only there to deliver visions and inspirations to the priests who already follow Her. I'm not meddling with the others."

"Remember when I was worshipped as a God for a while?" She mused, nipping at his side, making him twitch. 

"I do." He gently untangled her from his body and rolled the demon onto her back. "Did I bother _you_ back then? No."

"Maybe you should have." Beelzebub murmured, her sleep-addled mind making the words drip with longing. 

"Not my department, Bee." It had been Sandalphon's, and it was gruesome. He should not be thinking about all the wars the other Archangel had caused and _ended_ when Beelzebub was looking at him like this, her blue eyes still small from sleep, her face relaxed and smiling at him so sweetly. "I'll bring you the grossest treats from Japan for lunch, ok?" He bent down to kiss her. "Now let me get to work, Ba'al."

A rush of heat ran over the demon's skin. No one had called her that in several millennia and never had it felt like _this_. Fuck, did the angel even know what Ba'al meant? He was the Messenger of God, he surely knew every word of every language. It couldn't have been just a coincidence, not when he was smirking at her like that.

She grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him down into a tight hug, the weight of him grounding her. "Thank you. For last night."

"Anytime, Bee." He petted her hair. "Anytime you need me." 

He went to get dressed, choosing a graphite coloured suit with lavender pinstripes, combined with a white shirt and lavender tie. A single spritz of Salvatore Ferragamo Black's F perfume was the last detail added, and Beelzebub was ready to peel him out of his clothes as soon as the scent hit her senses. How the angel managed to make lavender smell masculine and alluring, she would never be able to fathom.

He left shortly after, as usual with a good-bye kiss, leaving her to doze in bed for another hour or two. Her eyes kept darting to the glittering Christmas star sitting on her nightstand. She'd keep it right there. It had enough light, she'd water it before every nap and wake to its sight whenever she slept, a sweet reminder of what the angel was willing to do for her. 

She kicked the duvet off and sat up, grumbling. Time to face the damages the storm had left. Barefoot, she walked into the bathroom and stuck Gabriel's sweatshirt into the light hamper. She brushed her teeth, took a quick shower and dressed. Fuck winter and its need for actual socks when going outside, she missed her stylish fishnets.

Beelzebub went downstairs, grabbed an apple from the kitchen and made her way into the living room. No letters on her desk, there won't be any until January, but there was a small package on Gabriel's. How curious. She turned and looked at the still naked tree and peeked past it through the window. The traitors had their's all set up, blinking with star-shaped fairy lights and hung with shiny gold glass baubles and red apples. She would not be outdone by them, fuck no. But first, she had to check up on the garden. 

The lawn was squishy under her boots, some shadowy spots still had bits of hail piled upon them. Twigs and branches were strewn throughout the garden, but miraculously her red lights were still on the trees. 

_Gabriel, you stupid, lovely angel._

She cleaned up what she could in the garden, her mind going back to those warm angel wings no matter how much she tried to distract herself. It was so intimate, in a strange way. She had slept tucked under an angel's wing, for fuck's sake. She was a demon Prince, a Lord of Hell, only second to Satan himself, and Gabriel didn't give a blessed damn about it anymore. He comforted her, kissed her, promised to bring her foreign sweets and her heart was ready to _melt_.

Beelzebub kicked at a lonesome ball of ice and growled. What was she supposed to do about it? The wind picked up, tousling her hair. She took a deep breath of the crisp and clean winter air and went back to work. 

True to his word, Gabriel was back home at lunchtime, bearing a bag of obscure foodstuffs for her. He kissed the cold tip of her nose and followed her back inside. 

She pulled out a big bowl from the cabinets and held it out to the angel. "Show me the spoils." She demanded with a grin.

"Is this a booty call, Bee?" Gabriel said, a way too smug smile on his lips. 

"Ugh," the demon cringed, "that pun hurt _physically_."

One by one, the bowl filled with brightly coloured bags and boxes, all adorned with cutesy mascots.

"Apple cheesecake flavoured peanut puffs?!" Beelzebub snickered and tried one. "It's absolutely disgusting. Wow." She took another bite, scrunching her nose but smiling in delight at the same time.

She sampled most of what he had brought. Sour plum biscuits, wasabi marshmallows with fizzy bits in them, the classic KitKat made with dark chocolate and green tea. Gabriel watched her, enjoying her good mood, letting himself feel his love for her and basking in the love radiating off the cottage and the demon eating candy he had served. He could do this all day, but this was effectively just a break for him before he had to move on to Southern Africa and work his way up until the evening hours. 

"By the way, there is a package for you on your desk." Beelzebub spoke while digging through the pepper flavoured gummi bears.

Gabriel perked up. "A package?"

"Yes." Beelzebub confirmed, face pulled in disgust. She ate another.

"From who?" He was already up on his feet.

"Didn't look." Beelzebub explained around a mouthful of white chocolate covered dried squid. "Inviolability of mail, Gabriel, I'm not touching your heavenly inbox." She trailed him as he went into the living room.

He turned the small parcel in his hands. "It's from Micheal, huh."

"Are you in trouble?" _Because of me._

He took the scissors from his desk and cut the twine strings that held the box shut and opened it. 

"Oh." The angel said and sat down on his office chair. 

“ _Gabriel._ ” Beelzebub insisted, impatiently.

"It's, uhm, it's a gift, I guess. For the cottage, for both of us." He explained and gulped nervously. 

"What?" She hissed and took the parcel from him. 

"A set of salt and pepper shakers. They are figurines with wings, one in black, the other in white." Gabriel pulled them out of the box, careful not to spill their contents. 

"Look, I'm hot, you're salty". Beelzebub chuckled. 

"That's what you're taking from this?" Gabriel groaned and took the card from the bottom of the box. 

_No need to explain. - M_

"How much does Micheal know?" The demon queried in a hushed tone. 

"More than she should, as usual." The angel rubbed his face. "Bee, it's fine. I'm not in trouble for last night. I held up my side of the bargain with her. You don't need to worry about it."

Beelzebub nodded and let herself be drawn into his lap for a quiet kiss. 

Gabriel set the shakers on their breakfast table when he left. The figurines faced each other, each bent forward, faces touching. How much did Micheal know, really?

When he came back in the late afternoon, Gabriel was surprised to see the Christmas tree fully decked. With wooden ornaments. Beelzebub had hung the tree with wooden ornaments.

They were made from thin sheets of wood bent and formed to shape stars and baubles, and _lilies_ painted in a white gradient. Intricate snowflakes made from straw, clearly by hand. There were pinecones sprayed with gold, bright red bunches of holly berries. A chain of candle-shaped lights, glowing soft and warm around the tree. 

"I hung the tree with his dead friends." Beelzebub announced with her arms crossed over her chest. 

"Right." Gabriel snorted and cocked his brow at her. "Where did you get all of this? It's truly beautiful."

"Gilbert's daughter is a carpenter. Her kids made all of this." She explained, gesturing at the festooned tree to distract him from her reddening cheeks. "They were selling them at the Christmas market, for charity."

"Charity, demon?" An amused smile tugged at Gabriel's lips.

"I paid with conjured money, I'm causing inflation." Beelzebub remarked. "Perfectly evil."

"A generous evil, I assume?" A hand snuck around her hip, pulling the fuming demon closer.

"Oh, shut up." Beelzebub bristled. "Wait until you see the finishing touch." She snapped her fingers and at the top of the tree, a Ken doll appeared, dressed in a grey suit and its eyes painted a glittery purple. "The Archangel Gabriel, the one and only Messenger of the Annunciation, the holiest and _handsomest_ your lot has to offer. He'll watch over the presents. Will smite anyone who goes near them to snoop."

"Presents, you say?" He had both of his arms around Beelzebub and pulled her back against his chest as he studied the tree. 

"Just one. I know that you know." Her hand reached back, stoking his nape. 

"We share this cottage, Bee, fair is fair." Gabriel snapped his fingers, and at the Ken dolls side, a tiny version of Beelzebub appeared in perfect relation of their actual size. Her red sash was made of glistening tinsel. 

Both beings blushed at the sight, heated cheeks touching while Gabriel hugged her from behind. 

"It's cute."

"Shut it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all you suckers for Bureaucracy, if you read any of the kinkier stories in which the term Ba’al is used by Gabriel to call Beelzebub his master and/or God, please remember that it also means _husband_. Just saying.
> 
> And if you think apple cheesecake flavoured peanut puffs are made up, no, they are not. I’ve eaten them and they were the culinary equivalent of the brutal trainwreck you can’t look away from. 
> 
> Special thanks to AEpixie7 who reminded me that Gabriel is associated with white lilies. 
> 
> Oh, and those ornaments are a German thing, again. If I had a deathwish I’d go back to the Christmas market and take pictures of them for you.
> 
> Up next: 17 - Cookies ♥


	18. Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Who made these?" Beelzebub asked with honest curiosity. 
> 
> The angel shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me."
> 
> "Try me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. Listen. The soft, dry and crumbly cookies we frumpy people here in Europe eat during the Christmas season are biscuits, you heathens.
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◍⊱•••• COOKIES ••••⊰◍

  


On the evening of the 18th, after a long day spent in the South Americas, Gabriel had some time to relax. He sat on the sofa, his feet up on the coffee table and with smaller, way cuter feet in his lap.

Beelzebub made him watch The Grinch. "See, no one cares about your Jesus boy." She said, peeling herself another tangerine. "And he was born in August, why do you suck up to the December nonsense?"

"Because not all of it is about Jesus, Bee." She had changed up the nail polish, after all, it was still black, but the tips were painted a festive red. “It’s about reborn _hope_. The winter solstice passes, and the hope is rekindled, that darkness won't take more and more of each day." He was fascinated with the accurate lines of red glitter on her nails. "Just as Jesus had brought hope to countless generations."

"So, they are basically worshipping the sun you admit that your lot bastardized Yule."

" _Humans_ did that, violently merging the holidays for convenience." He traced her toes with his fingertips. "For the longest time, I had thought it had been your side that initiated it."

"No, they did that all on their own." She popped a slice of fruit into her mouth. "Crowley claimed responsibility, but Dagon had all his reports triple checked after the botched world-ending. That snake had tricked us into believing all sorts of things ever since he set his scales on earth. I'm rather impressed." 

"Did you hear back from Dagon, by the way?" Gabriel asked, two of his fingers mapping the delicate bones on the outside of her ankle. 

Beelzebub pointed in the direction of her desk. "I received a letter in return, a card from the feel of it, but I don't dare to open it inside the cottage."

"Better not." Gabriel laughed.

Her focus went back to the movie. "It gives me the chills how much the voice actor sounds like my boss."

"I think it's quite fitting." 

The doorbell rang. That was new. 

"I'll get it." Gabriel said and placed a kiss on her left foot before standing up.

"If it's Jehovah's witnesses, does it count as work for you?" Beelzebub called after him.

The angel snorted. "No, they don't have an appointment."

He went to the door, unlocked and opened it, to find _Crowley_ standing there, huddled in a long thick coat, a silvery scarf wrapped fashionably around his neck. Perfect for strangling him with, in Gabriel's opinion.

"What do you want?" The archangel asked. 

"Good evening to you, too." The serpent bit back. 

"Yes, hi." He gave Crowley his best diplomatic smile. "The fuck do you want?"

"I'm just here to give you this. For you and Lord Beelzebub." He held a small tin can decorated with snowflakes out to him. "I made cookies the other day. Thought I'd be the better person and share them."

Gabriel had no intentions to take anything from him. "I don't actually eat, you know that."

"Hrnk." The demon growled and bared his teeth. "Right, yes, I do know that." He pushed the can out again and Gabriel took it with a petulant roll of his eyes. "I just needed an excuse to come over and tell you… Congratulations? My condolences? You have terrible taste, by the way."

"You're projecting." Gabriel sneered. He sat the tin can down on a small side table in the hallway and crossed his arms.

“No, _you_ are.” Crowley said. "Whatever you two are doing, Aziraphale can feel it all the way to our living room, and he doesn't shut up about it. He's all fidgety, so _tone it down_ , will you."

"We weren't doing anything!" Gabriel huffed. "We've been keeping our distance to you, in case you haven't noticed."

"You're radiating love, you moron." The demon pointed out. 

Gabriel shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Well, I'm an angel--"

“An angel _in love_. It's all… swathing warmth, not just your normal obnoxious fake base friendliness." The demon explained, hands flying irritably as he spoke. "According to _my_ angel, who is clearly the more qualified angel. Much cuter."

Gabriel groaned in annoyance, hands placating. "I can assure you, we--"

"I don't need or want to hear it. Safe all of that for Lord Beelzebub." He gestured to their living room window where his former superior was cackling at a grumpy green otherworldly man struggling with the concept of Christmas. "You haven't told her yet, judging by the look on your face." His sadistic smirk taunted the angel. 

Gabriel sighed and leaned against the doorframe, his smile faltering. "Whatever for, she's a demon." _She can’t love me back._

Crowley held up his hand, a golden wedding band shimmering. "Humour me, wankwings." He turned and started walking back to his home. "Happy holidays, assholes. And please tone it down."

He closed the door, frowning at the unexpected encounter. Even the traitors had noticed. He straightened up and rolled a shoulder. _Tone it down._ What were they thinking? As if he could just put a lid on what he felt for Beelzebub! But he could absolutely use it against them if he'd let himself go. There was still time left, almost two hours. He could easily take Beelzebub to bed and let the traitors drown in his love for her, to teach them a lesson. 

"Who was that?" The Prince asked as Gabriel stepped back into their living room. She lifted her feet to let him sit in his spot again.

"A neighbour brought cookies, wishing us happy holidays." He waved the little rattling gift.

"Cookies?" She sat up, hands grabbing for the tin. She opened it to reveal a mix of cut out stars and hearts, spritz biscuits, vanilla crescents and spitzbuben. She picked a crescent and held it to Gabriel's lips who bit half of it off. She ate the other half, humming at the sweet and crumbly treat.

"Who made these?" Beelzebub asked with honest curiosity. 

The angel shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me." She ate a little heart next. Was that raspberry flavoured chocolate? It had to be. 

The cookies were made with love, Gabriel could tell. As if it were a tangible ingredient. A small voice in the back of his head, yet again, whispered to him that he could learn to cook. For her. 

"It was Crowley."

Beelzebub choked and glowered at Gabriel. “Fucking _warn_ me.” It only took a moment, then she shrugged and went for a star-shaped spitzbuben cookie. "He's a lousy excuse of a demon, but Heavens, he can bake. I wouldn't have thought he'd have the spine to come over."

"He surprised me, too." He said before eating another cookie right out of her hand. 

An hour later that night, Gabriel made love to her just to piss the traitors off. He was spooning her from behind, with one hand gently kneading her breasts, the other between her legs, switching rubbing at her clit and tracing the slick slide of his cock in and out of her.

"You feel so good, Bee." He breathed into her hair.

"Show me how good." Beelzebub rolled her hips back against him, moaning at how deep she could feel the angel.

He knew exactly what she wanted, and he would not deny her. Gabriel kissed the nape of her neck and sped up as he held onto her shoulder for leverage. A finger slid back through her wetness, away from where they were connected, and to her clit, circling it with just the right pressure to make her shiver.

Shortly after, she came with a shout, her hands gripping at the sheets. She whined when Gabriel suddenly pulled out of her, ignoring the soppy mess he caused. Beelzebub didn't stay empty for long, he turned her onto her back, and he plunged inside her heat, picking up the rapid pace where he had left off. He wanted to see her face for what he intended to do.

"Bee, fuck." For a moment, he hesitated, but he needed to know what dirty talk would do to her, what would happen if he turned the tables. He kept up the unrelenting thrusts as she writhed, bucking her stuttering hips to meet every movement of his. Gabriel leaned down to kiss at her neck, bringing his lips closer to her ear. "When you cum, it feels as if your body is trying to hold me inside and drinks the cum right off my cock."

That did it, and he got to watch it all. Beelzebub's back arched, and she promptly came again, for the fifth time that evening. Her entire body was twitching, her abdomen spasming as release wrecked through her. Gabriel toppled over, leaning on his arms beside her head. She was so damned tight around his cock, clenching so hard right before the tension in her body finally snapped and she began to tremble from the ecstasy coursing through her. 

Beelzebub's orgasm just wouldn't end. 

What a sight, what a beautiful sight, let alone the sounds she made. She was so lost in her pleasure. _Because of me._ Gabriel thought, just before he came himself, pressing as deep as he could.

"Fuck, yes, give me _everything_." Her voice was raspy, a husky demand at the feeling of being filled more and more with every pulse of the angel's cock, and it did him in.

"I love-- I love it when you come like this." His slip of words caused another shudder. 

Beelzebub clawed at his back, riding out the last aftershocks of her climax. She kept quivering and clenching around him, making Gabriel keen in return. He caressed and kissed her, breathlessly, until she calmed down from her height and started to doze off. 

After a little miracle to clean the sheets, he was typing away on his laptop, getting some paperwork done. He stayed in bed while Beelzebub slept, curled against his side. It was nice, he had to admit.

Gabriel lingered like this for another half an hour. Then he had to get up and ready to leave for first the islands, and then the west coast of the United States.

He looked at the peacefully slumbering demon. Careful not to wake her, he kissed Beelzebub good-bye, his heart brimming.

For tomorrow, he had a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caaaaaan you feeeel the LOOOOOVE tonight? Ahem. Gabriel making love out of pettiness is my new favourite thing. Six chapters to go, folks!
> 
> Oh, and, hi husband! How does it feel reading your own quote in this? Love you.
> 
> Up Next: 19 - Wish ♥


	19. Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What's your wish, lady?" Gracie pressed on in a coy tone.
> 
> "I'm too old to have a wish for Christmas." The demon replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. This is the I-have-no-time-to-write-lets-keep-it-short-update that has two- _fucking_ -thousand words. It was not easy to write. This one’s a bit emotional.
> 
> Enjoy.

  


### 

◍⊱•••• WISH ••••⊰◍

  


Beelzebub woke at ten in the morning on the 19th. She felt rested and sticky and thought back to the previous evening. It had been different, somehow, as if Gabriel had been trying to prove a point or to tell her something. Little did she know that it had been both. She reached down between her legs and, fuck, she was still slick between her folds. 

She groaned and smothered her blushing face in the pillow. The things this angel made her feel, she had no words for it.

She slowly hurled herself out of bed and took a refreshing, scalding hot shower. She picked a jumper with an overly intricate cable knit pattern, bright red panties and made her way downstairs. 

There was still no new mail for her. December had never been this slow for work. Was it the lack of Armageddon? Maybe she had to whip the demons back into shape, those lazy bastards. Earth was still here, there were billions of humans to tempt and seduce and meddle with. Work had to be done, even without a war, there was still a goal. They all still needed guidance to indulge in sins and have some fun for once, diets and abstinence be damned. Hell will get humans back on track for a balanced life by the end of January. 

Ugh, she was at a point where she actually missed work. How does a human deal with this? Well, she knew they happened to have children and that those took up most of their time.

She peeked past her festooned tree to see what Crowley, an unemployed house-husband, was up to. He was not sleeping on the armchair in front of the fireplace as usual, nor was he in the kitchen. He was frantically running from room to room, talking with his husband, arms thrown in exasperation. Were they fighting? 

Blegh, no, they were hugging and kissing. Crowley had no taste in angels, really.

Beelzebub went into the kitchen. She could, in theory, make herself a nice breakfast, eggs and ham and some fruits. Or she could just grab the remaining Japanese sweets and a cup of fresh milk. Just as she had opened the fridge, she heard a ruckus outside. She groaned and grabbed a pair of pants from the back of her chair in the living room. She could see Crowley carrying a big tartan covered trunk to his car.

"Angel, move it."

What was going on? She had to know. For professional reasons, for her weekly report. She pulled on socks and slipped into her boots, one arm down a coat-sleeve as she opened the front door to observe.

"Mr Crowley, are you leaving?" She heard a child ask. There were three of them of various young ages, two of them obviously siblings, holding hands. 

"Only for the holidays, sweetheart, we'll be back in a few days." She heard Crowley speak in a soft voice entirely unbecoming for a demon. 

"But what about our presents?" A boy asked, wearing a down jacket two sizes too big. 

The traitors were packing, leaving for a trip. What was that all about, they had a Christmas tree and all, why would they go now?

"You'll get them when we're back." Crowley explained, lifting their luggage into his Bentley. 

"But I have one for you!" The youngest girl whined. 

"Me too." Her sister joined in. 

"Darling, we could exchange them now?" Aziraphale asked, fidgeting, seeming to be in a hurry.

"No, we won't." He knelt down to talk to the children on an even level. "Don't you worry, we'll be back soon, and then we can all meet up here, have hot chocolate and cookies and celebrate a little extra Christmas party. How does that sound?"

"But I want my present now!" The youngest wailed. "We can wait." 

The older girl said and pulled her sibling into a hug to console her.

"Some things are worth the wait, trust me." The redhead added with a broad smile, nudging Aziraphale's side. The angel looked at him, entirely besotted. 

Crowley gave each kid a little pat on their head and stood back up. "Everything alright, angel?" He asked as he noticed the former principality stiffening. 

Aziraphale had locked eyes with Beelzebub for a brief second. He was acting nervous and kept averting his eyes, cheeks flush. The Prince waved at him, and he flinched, huffing scandalised. "Yes, dear. Let's kick the road!"

" _Hit_ the road. Angel, come on." He held the door open for Aziraphale, scowling at Beelzebub from behind his dark glasses as his husband climbed in. 

The traitors drove off, leaving the kids to entertain themselves. They decided to start scribbling a Christmas wish list with thick chalk sticks onto the pavement in big, bold letters. Beelzebub watched them for a moment, having little else to do. 

Until one of them started to paint her garden wall. "Oh, fuck no." She left the door and walked towards them, wrapping her scarf around her neck at the same time. "Hey, kids, watch it."

The boy dropped his chalk. "The scary lady!"

The older girl put the stick back in his hand. "She's not scary, she's _goth_ , mum says."

"Your mum sounds fearless, kid." Beelzebub said with a smile. "Keep listening to her." 

"I'm Emma. This is my big brother Thomas and this my little sister Gracie." The girl said, introducing everyone and smiling back at the demon. She knelt down to continue drawing what could be a pony if you squint. "What do you wish for?"

"For you brats to go away. Don't paint on my property." Beelzebub answered, but there was no bite to her words. 

"You're lying!" The youngest girl, Gracie, responded. 

Thomas chimed in. "You'll only get coals for Christmas if you lie!"

Beelzebub shrugged, unimpressed. "Coals will keep me warm at least."

"What's your wish, lady?" Gracie pressed on in a coy tone.

"I'm too old to have a wish for Christmas." The demon replied, watching the boy paint a blocky train. "I'm Bella, by the way."

"Bella doesn't sound scary." Thomas said with a frown. 

Emma rolled her eyes at him. "I told you, she's just goth."

"Everyone gets to have a wish! You too!" Gracie insisted, jumping up and down for emphasis. 

_All I want for Christmas is Gabriel._

"Oooh, your face is all red now." Emma giggled.

Why was she even talking to _children_? She could have just scared them off if she wanted. "Because you're making me angry, you little devils."

"You're lying again!" Gracie said, pointing a finger at her. Beelzebub couldn't remember the last time she had felt this attacked. 

"I bet she's thinking about her mister!" Her older sister added. 

That was the last thing she needed. The previous night had been wonderful, yes, but fuck was she confused now. "None of your business."

"You are!" Gracie said with a childlike exasperated gasp, smudging chalk to her cheeks as she slapped them. 

"She's in love." Emma sang and shimmied. 

Fuck. _Fuck!_ Even the children saw it. She was in love, and hopelessly so. Yes, she did have a wish, but she would not be stupid enough to put it into words for them. 

The two girls perked their lips and made smooching sounds at each other, much to Thomas' distress. "Ewwww, stop it." Suddenly all three were back on their little feet. "He's coming, aaah!" Thomas cried, "Scatter!" 

"Were the kids bothering you?" Gabriel's charming voice spoke next to Beelzebub's ear. Her heart skipped a beat as she spun around to face the smiling angel. The traitors were gone, no one cared if she just-- 

She gave in, grabbed him by his coat lapels and kissed him in broad daylight. The children in the distance were screaming. His hands cradled her lower back, and he leaned into it, deepening the kiss, letting his tongue slip between her welcoming lips. They stayed like this for a long moment, ignoring the world around them.

"Happy to see me?" Gabriel grinned as they parted. 

"Always." She answered, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

Beelzebub was already outside and dressed, it was the perfect opportunity to give his little plan a try. "How about we take a walk?" He asked, nuzzling her cheek.

"A walk? Really?" Beelzebub chuckled but laced their fingers together. "Lead the way."

He did. He took Beelzebub down the road, up a footpath towards the hills with small patches of forests scattered over them. He had to take her away from the cottage to test something. They strolled and chatted comfortably, about how Aziraphale messed up Jesus' birth circumstances by forgetting that the room booked under his name was meant for Mary. He had been too busy drinking wine with a particular demon to remember. Anecdotes of how Hell had started the Bielefeld conspiracy, spread the belief that Keanu Reeves is a vampire and the flat earth theory movement as an experiment to see how far a stupid idea could run when given the means of the internet. All you needed to do was giving the right human a _but what if_ and lean back. 

They reached a bench at a small pond and sat down. They were far enough from the cottage, so the base radiation of it wouldn't interfere with his experiment. Gabriel didn't bring her any snack so she wouldn't love it out of gluttony. They had been walking. Therefore love for sloth was out of the equation as well. He had refrained from flirting, and they were outside, huddled in several layers of warm clothes, no love for lust had its place now. 

But it was still _right there_. A base level of love, even though there was no sin for the demon. His stomach felt tight and tingly. There was hope. He had to give it a chance.

Quietly, he leaned towards her. Beelzebub turned her head, her eyes meeting his. He gazed into their sky blue for a moment, startled by how the feeling intensified. He closed the distance between them and kissed her, one hand cupping her cheek, the other settling at her hip. He inclined his head and sighed against her parting lips. He kept the kiss sweet and slow, intimate and _loving_. 

How did he miss this? 

Love rolled off the demon in waves, immersing him in warmth. There was no food, no bed, no anything. This was for him. Just him. The tip of his tongue was reaching for hers, causing her love to spark at the contact. He could feel a sob clogging his throat.

Holy fucking Heavens and Hell and everything in between, how could have missed _this_?

She loved him.

Beelzebub drew back and reached for his hand. "You ok?"

"Yes." Gabriel answered, voice raspy. He rested his forehead against her's and closed his eyes, concentrating. No, he wasn't wrong, he couldn't be, there was no other explanation. He’d been _blind_. 

"You're shaking." The demon pointed out, leaning closer.

"Well, it is a bit cold." The angel said and sniffed, but not from the crisp air. 

Beelzebub pulled off her scarf and wrapped it around the angel's neck, looping it elegantly at the front. The way she looked at him, so infatuated, how did he not _see_ this before?

"Hmm." Beelzebub hummed, giving him an imploring look as she tugged the scarf up to his chin, gaze fixating on his eyes. 

He felt his heartbeat pounding in his chest. "What is it?"

"Purple and red don't clash that badly, after all." She said and reached up to catch his lips in another kiss. 

_You love me._

He pulled her into his lap and clung to her smaller frame, holding on as her fingers pushed into his hair, a puff of hot breath escaping his mouth as she licked into it. 

"Should we take this home?" She asked, nipping at his bottom lip. 

Gabriel rose, keeping her up against him with his hands under her backside. "I would, but I have to go. East Coast of the US."

She sighed and bit at his neck. "I admit that I'll miss you." She wiggled out of his grasp and stood on her own feet. 

He kissed Beelzebub good-bye, softly, making her keen in his arms as he poured his affection into it. 

_You love me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that happened. 
> 
> Up next: 20 - Reindeer ♥


	20. Reindeer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He reached into a bag and set his gift on her desk. It turned out to be a giant gingerbread reindeer standing on four legs, a bright red bubble gumball for a nose.
> 
> “It’s actually meant to be for decoration, not for consumption.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks and smut time, guys! 
> 
> Enjoy.

  


### 

◍⊱•••• REINDEER ••••⊰◍

  


Gabriel's corporation was brimming with adrenalin. He had fallen for a demon. He never would have believed it possible for him to do so. If anyone had asked him half a year ago, he would have told them that falling from grace sounded just as absurd as falling in _this_ kind of love. 

He stood on a beach on some vague little island near the coast of New Jersey. His wings were still white, not a single feather burning up to a charred black. Was this what God had meant?

After the apocalypse-that-wasn't She had sent him a single message. He had thought it to be perfectly clear what it meant, but now, he had the feeling She had intended something else entirely. It was not his place to question Her, but to follow her Word. Which he had done. 

_Go where the lovers are, Gabriel._

And he had done that. He had gone to the South Downs where the Serpent of Eden had kept a little cottage for some time, the garden walled and speckled with climbing roses and apple trees. The traitors had married within two weeks after the world didn't end and moved to this quaint little village tucked into rolling hills, leaving the bustling and busy London behind, to, well, retire from Heaven and Hell. To be together, share a life. 

Gabriel had followed them, as was asked of him. He was about to snap his fingers to obtain the cottage across the street when a familiar and slightly buzzy voice stopped him.

"Fuck, no, you're not taking this from us."

"Us?" He turned and spotted Beelzebub a few meters off, standing on the pavement, the ground underneath her small infernal feet singed. 

It had been the late summer, and she had dressed for the season. Short suit pants that reached her knees, a white dress shirt and an artfully torn up black tie hanging crookedly from her neck. The red sash swayed as she walked up to him, blue eyes so intense in the sunlight. 

“Yes, _us_. I was about to take this cottage for Hell to keep an eye on the traitors. We can't kill them, but maybe we can learn something."

"Good choice, Lord Beelzebub, but I'll be taking it, for Heaven." He gestured widely at the cottage. "It's the perfect spot for surveillance."

"Why isn't Micheal here, then?" The demon asked, cocking one brow. 

"Would you prefer to speak to her?"

Beelzebub pulled a face and shook her head. "No, she's a wanker."

Gabriel frowned in confusion. "Why do people keep saying that?"

"Perhaps because she's a voyeur?" 

Gabriel shrugged. "Surveillance does come with its downsides."

"Not the words I'd have chosen." Beelzebub couldn't suppress a chuckle. "You can fuck right off though, I'm taking this place." She held her hand out to snap. Gabriel reached for it, wrapping his fingers around the small fist he made. The gall this angel had, it was infuriating. 

"You won't. God sent me here to take it." He let go after the threatening glower he received. 

"She sure did, you're Her favourite little dove." The demon crossed her arms, unmoving. 

"God doesn't have favourites." Gabriel commanded, throwing her a callous smile. 

"Everyone has a favourite." The Lord of Flies retorted. "You should know, you're your own."

The archangel's hands were placating, but his face was smug as ever. "Lord Beelzebub, I must object to being _belittled_ by you."

"I'll fucking burn the cottage down." Bristling, she turned to step away from the arrogant bastard and raised her hand angrily to summon fire. 

Yet again, his hand wrapped around Beelzebub's. He had the impertinence to touch her. He always did, even back at the airbase. 

"I think it's safe to say we both need this cottage." His purple eyes locked with hers. He appeared genuine, which didn't mean Beelzebub felt any less of the urge to strangle him. "I'm sure we can find a compromise?" Gabriel added.

That had been his first step towards her. They had spent the rest of the day in the empty cottage, discussing, fighting, insulting until they could settle on a few ground rules. They'd share the cottage fairly, they wouldn't interfere with each others' work, no other agents from Heaven and Hell were allowed on the plot to keep things balanced. It would be just the two of them, working for the Greater Good and/or Evil.

Had this been what God had meant? To work together with Hell, cooperating and sharing the task of guiding humanity? Not to prepare for war, but as a joined project, as the traitors had done for centuries, trading miracles and temptations to share the workload and have more time to spend together. 

"On the count of three." Both ethereal beings stood on the living room, thumb pressed against their middle finger, ready to will formal documents into being signing them both as owners of the cottage. "One, two, three!" Snap.

"Bella von Bubenstein. How pretentious." Gabriel scoffed at the name at the bottom of the contract.

“I _am_ royalty, asshole. Better than being an unimaginative fool going for a bleak _Gabriel Smith_." The demon spat back at him, face stoic as ever.

"It's a humble and unassuming name, it serves my needs." Gabriel explained and clapped his hands.

Beelzebub rolled her eyes and groaned at him. "You don't even know what your needs are, angel."

"Oh, and you do?" He knew he shouldn't have said that.

"Why should I waste my time on you?" She asked, fixing him with a cold but challanging stare.

"Maybe you'll like me." The angel straightened his tie and pointed at himself with both of his thumbs, smiling insolently.

He could see how she was ready to just punch him. It was a good look on her. "No one likes you, Gabriel."

But that wasn't true anymore. She did. Beelzebub loved him. The realization of it made him shiver. 

_Go where the lovers are, Gabriel._

He had gone to the South Downs. He had cooperated with a demon, with Beelzebub, a Prince of the Internal Realm. 

And had fallen in love with her, without meaning to, without knowing.

He looked down at the soft red scarf still warmly wrapped around his neck and took a shaky breath of the sea air. He had never felt anything as intense as this. It hurt, it ached, but it was so wonderful at the same time. He was an angel, a being of love, but entirely overwhelmed with it.

Christmas was about hope. He'd tell her, then, when he'd hand over his gift for her. But first, he had to get work done, to make the time for it. For _them_. 

He had worked his way up the coast and even got some of the remaining island nations done. He pushed himself, stopped himself from slipping into unnecessary fights about values and barked orders when needed. He was on a divine roll, zapping from city to city, priest to priest with determination. 

He was back home at tea time on Friday the 20th. The demon Prince was busying herself with writing her weekly report on the traitors. He kissed her in greeting, letting himself indulge in what the kiss triggered in her. 

"I've brought you something from the US."

"A glass of Baconayse?" She only said it to see his face grimace in violent disgust. Not even she liked that particular abomination of a condiment. There were limits, even for her.

He reached into a bag and set his souvenir on her desk. A giant gingerbread reindeer standing on four legs, a bright red bubblegum ball for a nose.

"It's actually meant to be for decoration, not for consumption."

"We both know that is stupid. Food is food." Her teeth promptly sunk into the reindeer's antlers. He sat down at his own desk and started typing away on his laptop. His eyes kept going to the demon who was happily eating her treat, naked feet up on her own desk, in the little space between piles of paperwork, knick-knacks, antique pieces of jewellery and things Gabriel could only call junk. 

By the time he was done, the reindeer had vanished. "Did you really eat the entire thing?"

"Well, yes." The demon patted her belly. "You can't just show me something tasty and expect me to not put it in my mouth." She licked her lips and smiled at him.

"You glutton." Gabriel laughed and stood from his chair to stretch.

"I'll teach you glutton."

This is why they were here now, in bed, soft sheets sticking to Gabriel's damp skin as he blinked against his tears. He watched her as she licked along the length of his shaft. He was twitching from merciless teasing, it had been almost two hours. She wouldn't let him touch her while she sucked and toyed with his cock, bringing him near to the edge over and over again to then withdraw and watch him squirm.

"Bee, please." He whined, hands flexing in the sheets.

"How often were you close now?" She lapped at the head of his cock, picking up a pearl of precum. "A dozen times? Twenty? More?"

"I didn't keep count. Fuck, Bee, please let me finish." 

"My stomach could be filled with your cum by now, Gabriel." Beelzebub licked her swollen lips. "This is what a pure glutton would have wanted, don't you think?"

His mouth felt dry. He swallowed and nodded at Beelzebub. 

"Do you think I'm a pure glutton? That I only want to devour you?" She bit her own tongue, she shouldn't be asking these question. She knew Gabriel saw no more malice toward him in her. 

Gabriel did not know what she was expecting, what she'd do if he gave the wrong answers, so he stuck to the truth. "No." He rasped. "There is more to you." _You love me._

She placed a quick kiss on his lips. "Yes. I'm more than my title, and so are you." She nipped along his jawline, enjoying the salty taste of the angel's skin, almost sweet in contrast to his precum. "Which is why you'll need to concentrate now. Can you do that for me?" 

Gabriel nodded. What was she planning?

She took one of his hands, turning its palm up, and guided it between her legs. "I may be a glutton, and you might taste so so delicious, but your cum belongs somewhere else." She moaned as she pressed two of his fingers inside her. "Right here. It belongs right here." Sopping wet as she already was she rocked on his fingers. "I'll have you cum, but you have to make it good for me. Can you do that?"

Gabriel bit his bottom lip. Fuck, how could he deny her? His brow creased as he focused on his corporation, keeping himself from the brink of orgasm. She picked up on what he was doing and clenched around his fingers. 

" _Fuck_ , Bee." 

"That's what you're going to do now. You'll fill me up in a far better way." She pulled his hand away and climbed into his lap, dragging his rock hard and dripping cock between the hot lips of her sex. "You're going to fill me the right way, to sate a different kind of hunger."

She kept running the head of his cock against her clit, pleasuring herself with it, moaning gratuitously. She rolled her hips, slicking his entire length. "You'll have to give me _all_ of it. We have an hour left. I'll give you thirty minutes to shower and get ready for work. The other thirty minutes you'll be good just for me, and I'll let you cum." She lifted her hips a little and let the tip of his cock sink in. "In _here_."

She sank down his length, so easily when she was this wet for him. Gabriel took several deep breaths to steady himself. He had to fight the urge to grab her and pound into the beautiful demon. He'd behave and watch her fuck herself on his cock. 

She could read him so well by now, saw right through him when he was just about to find release, and then Beelzebub slowed down, held still entirely if he needs a small break from the maddening sensation.

"You're doing so good, Gabriel." She said, and she sat on him, giving him a moment to breathe. 

"Anything for you." The angel pressed out, is abdomen twitching. He didn't dare to look at the clock. 

She leaned back and held onto his shins as she rode him languidly, legs spread, giving him quite the show. Gabriel had to shut his eyes, the sight was too sensual, it pushed him too close to the edge.

"Keep your eyes on me." Beelzebub demanded.

He opened them for her, their gaze locking. His cock twitched in anticipation. Beelzebub could feel it, he saw it on her face. Fuck.

"You can do it, Gabriel, I know you can. Just hold on a little longer." She threw her head back and started to bounce on him. 

"Bee, slow down."

"No." She moaned, riding him with vigour. "Concentrate." 

She didn't hold back, at all. She came, made him watch, her hips stuttering and fingers digging into the skin of his ankles. Gabriel held his breath, fighting his own orgasm off while she rode out hers. Her movements stalled. She looked back at him, slowly leaning forward and let her hands drag from his stomach over his firm chest to then grip his shoulders. She stared at him in awe.

"I can't believe you're still able to hold back." She said, breathlessly, eyes shining bemused. 

"Bee, I told you, anything for you." He can do this for her. He trusted her. 

Beelzebub opened her mouth to say something but then bit her lip, her eyes searching for _something._ "Touch me." She whispered and guided his hands to her thighs, up her sides and to her breasts. The demon picked up a leisure pace again, grinding on him, barely raising her hips. She bent down, kissing him, feeling his breath hitch at the change of angle. She glanced to the clock on the sideboard. Two more minutes, only two more minutes. His strong thighs underneath her were restless and shuddering. A little more and she'd wreck him. His chest was flush and his face lined with the ache of pent up release. Gabriel needed to cum so badly. She guided his hands back down to the sides of her hips, helped him to get a good grip on her. One last glimpse at the clock.

"You've earned it." She spoke against his lips before sitting back up. "Fill me."

She watched him coming undone. He pounded up into her, fierce thrusts going _deep_. His body started to jerk, little broken sounds fell from his open mouth. Gabriel came with a shout, back arching off the bed as he pressed into Beelzebub, spilling his pent up release into the moaning demon who clenched so intensely around him, coming as she felt herself be filled with his hot essence. This is what she had been waiting for, fuck, it was so much. Gabriel held her in place, shuddering while his cock kept spending up into her. Heavens, he didn't stop. He kept thrusting into her, hissing at the ache of overstimulation as he pushed passed his own orgasm, focused on the urge to make her come one more time. He wanted to feel _this_. She keened above him, quivering, letting her head fall to his shoulder. Her insides gripped him fiercely, catching his cock and cum in a tight embrace. He halted his movements to feel her tremble around his cock. He caressed her neck, kissed her cheek, relishing the bliss of the moment. He'd never get enough of his.

"This--" she moaned and shook, "this wasn't part of my plan." The demon mewled, relaxing in the beginning afterglow of her climaxes. 

Gabriel nuzzled at her matted hair and laughed. "It was part of mine, Bee. "

_I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SAY IT, YOU MORONS!
> 
> The first third of the chapter did not exist twelve hours ago, this was originally planned as PWP. So much for that. 
> 
> Anyways, delayed gratification, folks. There are four more updates, we’re almost there. 
> 
> Up Next: 21 - Gift ♥


	21. Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There are more purple gems than amethyst.” The goldsmith suggested, already fishing for a catalogue from his workbench. It piqued her interest, he could tell. “You seem to have an extravagant taste, I just want to show you your options.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be a short one since I barely have time to write today, a Christmas party with a buffet is waiting for me to look pretty at. 
> 
> Outsider POV incoming!
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◍⊱•••• GIFT ••••⊰◍

  


Matteo Beneventi was a young goldsmith in Vicenza, Italy's proclaimed Capitol of Gold, the artistic centre of jewellery. He was born into a family with a long history of working in this delicate trade, he had learned under two generations since his papa and nonno owned a shop in a side alley of the market. He was raised above the shop, spent his childhood and youth in there, marvelling at the beautiful little pieces of art. Each piece a statement, a message, made to last forever. 

He had thought himself prepared for any and all customers, given the dramas he had witnessed throughout his life. Impertinent B celebrities, young women who came to riches willing to spend it all in one week, lovesick men requesting custom-made engagement rings. 

He had never seen a customer as strange as this. 

When they had entered on this sunny mid-November morning, he couldn't tell if he was about to speak to a man or a woman. They were androgynous, dressed in a suit. The hair was a ruffled long pixie cut, their shoes were flat, but they were wearing… fishnet socks? The closer they walked, the more he got the impression they were a woman, but he'd not make assumptions. 

"Buon giorno, can I help you?" He greeted them, friendly and professional.

"Hi." The person, a woman, judging by the impatient voice, said. She didn't smile back. "Are you open for commissions?"

"I am, what do you have in mind?" He had asked, trying to shake the suspicion that making a deal with this person meant trouble. 

The trouble concerning signora Bella Bubenstein, as he had learned, was not the typical fickle indecisiveness that made commissions hard to fulfil, it was the fact that she knew exactly what she wanted. 

"This is insane." Matteo said, gesturing at the sketch he had produced, guided by her detailed descriptions. 

“No, it’s _expensive_.” Signora Bubenstein corrected. "How much money do you need to get it done with osmium?"

"I'll have to do some research, I'll see what I can do." He said, suppressing a sigh. Taking on this project would be partially outside his expertise, but it was intriguing. "Why do you even want an osmium alloy?" 

"No, pure osmium." She cocked a daunting brow at him. "Signore Beneventi, I had the impression you were listening."

"I _am_ listening, but I can't believe what you're saying." He gestured animatedly. "That metal is toxic when hot. I can't do this here, I'd have to rent a laboratory and equipment to get the base shape done."

A clever smirk played on signora Bubenstein's lips. "How convenient that your fiancé has one."

Something cold and hot trickled down his spine. "Do I want to know how you know this?"

"No." She said, her face remained unreadable. "I mean no harm, just to be clear. This gift is important to me, and it has to be perfect." Something flickered in her stark blue eyes. 

He was wise enough not to ask what her occupation was. Her name, her request, the money offered, you don't ask questions about that combination if you wanted to stay alive. But there was something about this project, it obviously meant a lot to her, more than she was willing to show. 

Matteo took a deep breath. He wanted to understand, so he could do his job. "Why osmium, specifically?"

"It's the densest metal. I'll give it to the densest man I know as a gift on Christmas. That is your deadline, by the way, can you do that?" 

"I can, I think. If not, I'll let you know soon." She nodded, so he continued. "You realize this is quite the expensive insult you could make on Christmas?"

"Yes, it's perfect." She grinned with mirth, giving the goldsmith a cue to relax. 

It had to be this metal. It's even harder than diamonds, a small nod to Gabriel's stupid sexual prowess. It is also an extraordinary conductor for electricity and would, therefore, cause no issues for his preferred ostentatious means of travel. On top of that, the charming light steel blue colouring would go well with the decorative jewels. 

"So, the gems." Matteo prompted and picked up his pen to take further notes. 

"Amethyst." Signora Bubenstein said with certainty.

"Yes, I know, but we could mix it up for what you have in mind. There are more purple gems than amethyst." The goldsmith suggested, already fishing for a catalogue from his workbench. It piqued her interest, he could tell. "You seem to have an extravagant taste, I just want to show you your options."

"Fine." She picked herself up from her slouch and leaned onto his glass table while he flicked to the pages he needed. 

"Here we go." He turned to book towards signora Bubenstein, pointing at various raw and cut gems. "Tanzanite, charoite, purple sapphire, siberite, johnkoivulaite--"

"Now you're making just shit up." His customer snorted, but her eyes were wistfully fixed on the indigo coloured jewel. 

"That is its real name, the gem has just recently been discovered, and they named it in honour of a famous gemologist."

"I'll take it." Signora Bubenstein announced.

"Which one?" He asked, just to make sure. 

"All of them. Mix them up." She tapped her black painted nail on the sketches. "There is enough space in the flower spikes to spread them evenly."

"You're insane." He would not try to talk her out of it, God forbid, but he had to get it off his chest. 

“I have _money._ Do it." She pushed the catalogue towards him. No wasn't an option anymore. 

Matteo huffed but took his notes in artistically messy handwriting.

  


  


Erika Feuerbach, a middle-aged fashionista goldsmith, located in Düsseldorf, pushed her reading glasses up into her ginger bob cut hair. 

The man who had entered her atelier was tall, broad-shouldered, gorgeous and, luckily, wore no wedding band. Men like him came for one thing into her shop, and one thing only. She expected him to head straight for the display of engagement rings, but to her surprise, he came to her personally. Hmm, maybe she could wring out a night with him, then, and see what was underneath that well-tailored grey suit. 

"I assume you are the manager?" The man asked, a bright smile on his face. 

"I am. Frau Feuerbach, pleased to meet you, Herr..?" She offered her hand, adorned with green marble nails. She made sure he saw there was no ring on it.

"Schmidt. Gabriel Schmidt." He shook her hand in greeting. "I was wondering if you were interested in a commission."

She gave the man a shameless once-over and leaned back in her metal chair. "Oh, I am interested."

"Good!" He folded his hands in front of him. "This may seem on short notice since it's already the 2nd of December, but I trust in your capabilities to get this done before Christmas." He pulled out a slip of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket. "Do you want to discuss it here or in a more private locale?"

"We could talk in my office, Herr Schmidt." She turned. "Melissa, be a dear and keep an eye on the shop."

A younger woman appeared from a back room, her high heels clicking on the black stone floor. "Of course, Frau Feuerbach."

Gabriel followed her into her office, taking the offered armchair at a table made from polished dark wood and set in a gold frame. 

"Can I offer you anything? Coffee?" She said, heading for a machine on the sideboard.

"No, but thank you." He placed his paper on the table and pushed it towards her when she sat down with her hot drink. 

As the Messenger of God, it had come naturally to him to sketch what he needed to have done and for the human to understand even the smallest details from what he had drawn. There was no creativity to it if you asked him, but the fascinated brown eyes of the goldsmith implied something else. 

"Well, I have to admit, this is an interesting design." She put her glasses back in place and studied Gabriel's proposal. "Who is this for?"

"My, uhm…" The man cleared his throat. He looked uncomfortable for a moment before his small frown was replaced by a well-trained smile. "It's complicated." He offered. 

So much for getting her hands on him. She knew not to press the matter, you alienated a customer too easily with unwanted questions. 

"I assume you also have measurements for me?" She asked and reached for a pencil from the desk behind her. 

"Do you have a measuring tape?" 

"Do I-- yes, I do." She got up, her wide hips swaying as she walked behind the desk to pull out several drawers. "I just need to find it. Ah, there."

Gabriel held out his hands, shaping an O with his thumbs and index fingers. "This is the circumference needed." 

Somewhat amused, she took measurements and noted them down. The person her customer wanted to have this made for seemed to be intimate with him. They settled on length and width, a spring-ring clasp and shape of chain links. 

"You're requesting quite the variety of gems." She pointed out. "And unusual ones. Angel aura quartz? Where did you get the idea?"

"From my name. Gabriel, archangel, you may have heard of him?" Herr Schmidt replied, businesslike with a hint of smugness. 

"Yes. Something about Christmas, if I remember correctly." Frau Feuerstein wrote a few things down. Gabriel bit his tongue to keep quiet. "And, I quote you on this," she pointed at his purple handwriting, "the most _infernal_ fire opals?"

"Yes, as fiery as you can acquire." He added. "And in a royal facet cut."

"I'll speak to my lapidary, I'm sure he's up for it." She scribbled more notes and tapped the rubber end against her chin. "And for the main part, you want black tourmaline with mica in it, in an oval cut?"

"As noted in my sketch, yes." He gestured at the paper. He had spent countless hours on this, he almost felt embarrassed about it. 

"You have very specific tastes, good sir." She smiled at him. 

"I know." He inclined his head in a bow. "The metal will be tungsten, bezel settings for the stones should be no issue with that."

"Why tungsten and not something more classy, like gold or silver?" 

"It's the most scratch-resistant, from what I've heard." He said matter-of-factly. Beelzebub's way to travel meant passing rough earth and stone. "And most importantly, it's black." There was a sly little grin tugging at the corners of his lips. 

The goldsmith chuckled. "Fine with me." 

They discussed the remaining details, even the unimportant ones like money. Herr Schmidt left that day, leaving her an address in the UK for the paperwork. She could swear there had been no accent in his voice when they talked. 

He was back on Saturday morning of the 21st to pick up the final product. Something had changed in the meantime, he seemed so much more alive, excited. 

"This is perfect." He said, his eyes shining, most likely already imaging the jewellery it on his loved one. 

Erika put a hand on his arm. "When the time comes that you need a ring, you know where to find me." 

Gabriel blanched. "Oh!" He exclaimed as if the idea had never occurred to him. "I, uhm, Frau Feuerbach, I certainly will." Slowly, the tips of his ears turned pink. "But this is still new to me and to her, and--"

"No need to explain." She interjected kindly, keeping her voice calm. "Happy Holidays, Herr Schmidt."

"Happy Holidays."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The person who correctly guesses what they'll gift each other gets a free prompt fulfilment. Hint: No, it's not engagement rings, that theme is saved for my The Grey Fledgeling series. 
> 
> Up next: 22 - Warmth ♥


	22. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I could do it." Beelzebub blurted. 
> 
> "Do what?" Gabriel asked, curious what was going in that pretty ruffled head of hers. 
> 
> "I could do it." The demon repeated. "Groom your wings, I mean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory wing grooming incoming, woop woop!
> 
> Enjoy.

  


### 

◍⊱•••• WARMTH ••••⊰◍

  


It was late Sunday morning in England. Clerics at his last few destinations were very busy at the moment. It was the perfect excuse to stay home for a while and kiss a certain demon stupid.

Which was exactly what Gabriel was doing right now, on the sofa, with Beelzebub humming against his lips. She could probably taste the peppermint tea he had accepted out of courtesy earlier in Marokko. He could get her teas, maybe the kind made from forest fruits, so that she could drink it when it was cold outside. It was why there was always a fire crackling in the heating stove of the living room. Why her duvet was thick and filled with goose downs, and her hot baths were steaming. As he had learned from her, demons didn't particularly like the drafty, moist and chill Hell they were confined to. The only other option was to move their offices closer to The Pit and swelter in the heat of it. Not to mention the chance of bumping into Satan at the coffee maker and triggering a choleric outburst of words and hellfire because you took the last shot of milk before him. 

Beelzebub quite enjoyed the warmth of the cottage, but most of all she enjoyed _this_. Lazily lying on Gabriel's chest, kissing him. The tall angel let his legs hang off the far armrest, and his hands were on Beelzebub's back, stroking slow patterns under her jumper. 

"How much time do we have?" She whispered against his lips. 

Gabriel sighed. "I have to leave in about an hour, I still need to get my wings done."

"For a particular business appointment?"

"No. I kept putting it off for so long that the only spot left was today. They'll try to squeeze me in between cherubs, their small wings don't take all that long."

"But you're the Archangel Gabriel." Beelzebub drew back and stared at him, brows drawn up in question. 

"I don't get special treatment because I'm an archangel, Bee. I'll have to wait in line like everyone else." He pushed a rogue strand of hair behind her ear. 

The demon squinted at him. "I know you _can_ use your title to your advantage."

"Only when absolutely needed. Getting my wings tidied up is of nobodies concern, you know vanity is looked down upon Up There." He lifted his head to kiss the tip of her nose.

Beelzebub grinned and poked at his chest. "You admit to vanity, I'm so proud of you." 

"Is it really vanity when I want to look nice for someone else?" The angel pondered.

She frowned at Gabriel. He wasn't making sense. "But you just said there is no appointment to do that for."

"Bee." He huffed a small laugh. "I thought I'd look nice for _you_ on Christmas."

"You--" She buried her blushing face against his chest. Gabriel laughed, endeared. "Ugh." Gabriel couldn't just say things like that! 

He had hinted at staying home for the holidays. As soon as Christmas was all set up, and humans were inspired with family values. Shortly after, they'd all be busying themselves with making morally sound resolutions for the upcoming year, and he got to lie back and rest for once. January, for him, will be slow, until the effect of the holidays wears off and humans go back to how things were before. No small thanks to Hell, but this is how it balances out, in a strange way. Those with determination will pull through and better themselves. The weak will give in to the smallest piece of temptation on January 2nd, a piece of chocolate, a schnaps, a cigarette, logging into deep dark places on the internet. It'll be work for the lesser demons, but their reports will come to their Prince, eventually. 

Which she can read, evaluate and sign here, in the cottage, while spending time with the handsome angel who couldn't stop smiling at her for some odd reason. 

"I could do it." Beelzebub blurted. 

"Do what?" Gabriel asked, curious what was going in that pretty ruffled head of hers. 

"I could do it." The demon repeated. "Groom your wings, I mean. You don't have to go and waste your time waiting in line like a peasant." Wasting time he could be spending _here_. "You're supposed to be royalty, like me."

"No offence, Bee, but I prefer getting them done professionally." He was conciliating her, and she didn't like it. Not one bit. 

She manifested her wings, carefully raising them above her back to not knock over the Christmas tree. Her shiny black feathers were reflecting the golden glow of the fairy lights, making them resemble, well, black tourmaline with mica. Oh _fuck_. The coincidence made Gabriel's skin tingle with glee.

"If you need any proof, take a close look. I take care of them myself, as far as I can reach. Dagon helps when I need it. They are perfectly healthy, shiny and not a single one is out of place. I _can_ do it.” She spread them slightly, showing them off to him. She was right, they were glossy and flawless and gorgeous. 

Gabriel cleared his throat. "Do you think you can even do the tertiary ones? They are delicate and tricky and since there are only four angels who have them--"

She revealed hers and flapped the two smaller additional pairs gingerly. "I don't think they'll be an issue."

Perplexed, the archangel took in a sharp breath. He had no idea. “Who _were_ you?” He asked in a shocked but hushed tone before realizing what he just said. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have asked. No demon remembers." Which was hardly fair, if you asked him, which no angel did. You don't question God's judgement. 

Beelzebub shrugged. She had lived with this for thousands of years. "Let bygones be bygones." She had tried to find answers long ago, to no avail, and decided to build herself a new identity with the freedom she had been given through the Fall. Yes, she still was bound to responsibilities towards their King, but her name and reputation were of her own making. "Does it matter?"

 _I love who you are now._ "No." He shook his head and felt how her muscles relaxed. 

Tentatively, Gabriel reached for her smaller wings.

Beelzebub drew them away from his approaching touch. "Careful, you should know how sensitive they are."

"I'll be gentle." He said reassuringly, and she lowered her wings towards his hand. He carded his fingers through them, and the demon melted into his chest, buzzing a pleasant purr. 

"I have to admit, this is lovely." She sighed and closed her eyes to savour the soothing sensation.

"It certainly looks like it." Gabriel kissed her forehead and thoughtfully dragged his fingers through the tiny feathers again. She turned to putty on him. If only he had known about this during the hail storm. 

"I have everything we need here, up in the storage room." The demon murmured. "I could do it if you allow me."

"I allow it, I trust you." Gabriel let his head loll back against the well-cushioned armrest and closed his eyes as well. "But let us stay like this for a moment, ok?"

"Hmm." Beelzebub didn't object, why should she. This felt amazing. 

They stayed like this for half an hour, until Gabriel felt and saw the telltale signs of the precious demon falling asleep. Her primary wings lay folded against her back by now. Her breathing pattern changed, there was this specific twitch to her hands and, his personal favourite, she'd wiggle her nose. 

"Bee, come on." He spoke softly and pushed against her shoulder.

"No." She muttered and her hands bunched on his sweatshirt. "It's so warm and--" She broke into a yawn. 

Gabriel laughed. "I understand, but come on, I still need to get some work done later this evening. All of Canada is waiting."

That piqued her interest. "Will you bring me maple syrup?" She sat up and tucked away her black wings while she stretched. 

Gabriel stood and pulled off his shirt. It wasn't necessary for grooming, but he found it easier to reach the feathers closest to his back this way. "If you promise to not mess up the kitchen too badly when you make the pancakes for them, yes."

Beelzebub bit her bottom lip. She hated cleaning the kitchen after cooking with a passion. "Fine." She hissed.

"Where do you want me?" Gabriel asked, not entirely sure about the logistics for this endeavour inside the small cottage. The living room had, in theory, the most space, but it was furnished and decorated. 

"Oh, if you ask me like that--" The demon began.

"Bee," he interjected. "For grooming. I've never done this here."

"The kitchen." She walked past him and smacked him on his backside. "Go get comfortable, I'll be with you in a minute."

Beelzebub was regretting her offer as soon as she entered the kitchen. Gabriel straddled a chair, his arms lay on the backrest with his wings, all six of them, spread along the length of the room. Wing grooming had been a _bad_ idea. How was she supposed to deal with this? The sight alone, his gold speckled spine between those invitingly plush white wings. She sat her utensils on the table and steeled herself. 

She started where his wings transitioned into his back and worked her way outward along his coverts, plucking loose feathers, straightening the rest and washing them with a warm cloth using hot water from the kitchen sink. Beelzebub moved to the quills, then secondaries and primaries. She gathered all feathers in a small breadbasket, saving them for spring. Then she'd set them outside for birds to build their nests with. 

The demon pulled out a chair to sit behind Gabriel while working on his second and third set of wings. His reaction was similar to hers when she carded her fingers through his feathers to straighten them. He sighed contently and lay his head on his arms. 

"This really is nice." He stated and raised his bottom pair for her. "You're good at this, at least it feels that way."

“I _told_ you.” Beelzebub grumbled, fighting against the urge to snuggle unto his wings. "Just wait until I'm done and then thank me."

She moved to his font to reach all of his axillaries. Unfortunately, this meant Gabriel could see her face. 

"Bee?" He asked, and she could _hear_ his smug smile. 

"Not a word." She pressed, ignoring how her cheeks gathered even more heat. 

"Do you happen to have a wing fetish?" Gabriel asked, eying her. There was barely a teasing tone to his voice, he was more curious than anything. 

She concealed her blushing face in his plumes. Oh no, that felt wonderful. "No, I don't. Yours are just... rather handsome and incredibly soft. Don't let it get to your head."

Gabriel laughed beatifically. "So my wings are for you what your cute feet are to me?"

“It’s _not_ a wing fetish.” The demon groaned and reached for the silk cloth to polish his already dry feathers. Once she'd be done they'll look like pure white and lustrous milk-glass([x](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milk_glass)). He'll be the prettiest angel of them all, not that any of those wankers cared. 

"I don't have a foot fetish, Bee." The archangel huffed. "How often do I have to tell you that your feet are just so adorable."

"You really believe that, do you?" Beelzebub shook her head but couldn't stop a smile from spreading on her face. 

"It's the truth!" Gabriel insisted and straightened on his chair. 

“It's _your_ truth.” The demon corrected him. 

Beelzebub felt something tickle her naked feet and saw how Gabriel was glancing sideways to the ground. She looked down herself and saw how he was stroking her left foot with the tips of his long primaries.

"You incorrigible, kinky bird." She laughed and wiggled her toes. 

His feathers puffed. _Fuck it._ Beelzebub thought as she caved and gave in. She stood up, walked around Gabriel and hastily pulled off her jumper. Without any further hesitation, she flung her arms over his shoulders and leaned her bare chest against his back, letting the warm and soft plumes caress her sides. What utter _bliss_! 

Gabriel chuckled and reached for her hands. He kissed her knuckles. "Feeling comfortable?"

"Fuck yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder: there are only two updates left. 
> 
> Up Next: 23 - Champagne ♥


	23. Champagne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Bee!" He beckoned her over with a sluggish wave of his hand. "Bee, I did it." 
> 
> She sat down beside him and leaned into his side. "Did what?"
> 
> "Everything!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lets turn the domesticity up to eleven, guys.
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◍⊱•••• CHAMPAGNE ••••⊰◍

  


In early September, barely two weeks after Beelzebub and Gabriel had claimed a cottage in the South Downs, the Prince of Hell stood in an empty room upstairs. She felt _tempted_. 

There were birds singing outside, crickets playing their summer songs, and trees rustling from the wind. She could hear children playing in the distance. It was that moment that Beelzebub started to wonder: What would it be like to sleep here? 

There would be no demons knocking on her door to ask stupid questions. There are no rumbling leaky pipes, the cottage was in good condition. She could even paint the walls a dark and warm red, no more uneven indistinctive-grey concrete to stare at. There would be no mould stuffing up her nose, the air in this patch on Earth was fresh and clean. All she had o do was open a window. An actual window!

She could have, for once, just _sleep_. In a quiet room and in a soft bed. The sheets would be dry and warm, not damp and cold. Oh, she could have real downs in the duvet! They wouldn't rot here!

She heard the angel closing the storage room door.

"Gabriel." She said, suddenly feeling anxious. "I have a request."

"Yes, your highness?" His voice was laced with sarcasm. He kept pushing back against her demanding antics, they were equals here.

"I want a bed." She said, not even looking at him. 

"Whatever for?" Gabriel asked, frowning. 

"To sleep in, you moron." She glanced up at him for a moment, then back into the empty room. 

Gabriel leaned against the door frame. "You don't need to sleep. Neither do I."

She sighed. "While that is true, I enjoy sleeping. It helps me to unwind from the chaos of Hell." She turned back to him. "This is the last spare room, so unless you have any plans for it, I'm calling dibs."

The angel shrugged at her. "Beelzebub, do whatever you want with it, just make sure it stays clean." And with that, he left, going for a jog, judging by his outfit. 

It had been eery during the first nights. It was _so quiet_. But now, it was the most relaxing thing to Beelzebub, and she wouldn't give it up for anything.

  


  


In mid-September, Gabriel was standing in the bathroom door, panting from running across the lush countryside behind the cottage. He enjoyed this, the exercise, the rush of endorphins, the control he had over his God-given body. 

"Take a shower." Beelzebub ordered next to him, startling the angel. 

"Did I wake you up?" He asked, wiping at his sweaty forehead with his sleeve. 

"More or less, I was just dozing." She stated and scratched her belly under her short set of black pyjamas. With a strange fascination, Gabriel noticed that her toenails were painted black. "But refrain from stomping up the stairs in the future."

"I will." He looked back into the bathroom. "And I _could_ take a shower, you're right."

The demon snorted. "You sound like you haven't done that before."

"Of course I haven't, a small miracle certainly gets me cleaner." His fingers were tapping on the doorframe. He wanted to give the manual cleaning a try, he really did. 

"Miracle?" Beelzebub asked, incredulously. "Where is the fun in that. Are you honestly telling me you've used the bathroom only to wash your collection of clothes so far?"

"Well, yes." He shifted, apprehensively. He had an entire room dedicated to them and was still waiting for her to tease him about it. 

She snapped her fingers, and a light purple bottle appeared in her hand. "Lavender shower gel. Don't get it in your eyes unless you're into pain."

Gabriel's frown deepened. "Beelzebub, corporations are a tool for work on Earth, they are not supposed to be fun during maintenance."

"Maintenance?" She stammered. "Fucking Heavens, you can't be serious." Stupid angels and their lack of self-awareness. There was still hope for Gabriel, the odd being had hobbies already, maybe he could start to enjoy the small things about life at some point. 

Her chin raised as she crossed her arms. "You're not working right now, are you?"

"No. Why?" The sweat was starting to cool on his skin and feel sticky. 

"Your corporation is yours, then." She gestured at this broad chest. "As long as you treat it with respect and don't break it in your free time, no one will care."

"Heaven cares." The angel objected. "I can't go up there, smelling like flowers."

She cocked a brow at him. "Oh, you're leaving?" The demon inquired.

"No." He said, realization dawning on him.

He looked so confused, Beelzebub had a hard time keeping a straight face. "Go take a shower." She pushed the shower gel into his hands with a victorious smirk. "I know you want to. No one cares, go try and be yourself for once, Gabriel."

"Thank you."

  


  


A few days later, an angry angel was towering over the Prince of Hell in the living room. 

"Bee, who are all these people?" He demanded to know. 

"Humans, obviously." She said with a shrug and grabbed another piece of chocolate. "And don't call me that."

Gabriel pushed the box out of her reach. "Could you please be more specific?"

"Kitchen installers. I'm merely adjusting the unused room to its initial purpose." She sat up and took her box of sweets. How dare he touch her food!

The angel kept complaining about the noise all day, claiming he was unable to concentrate on his paperwork. Out of pettiness, Beelzebub sang along to every song she knew that plaid on the humans' local UK radio ([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=66AGQBZQHsE)). 

"'Cause I've got a brand new combine harvester and I'll give you the key   
Come on now, let's get together in perfect harmony"

“Bee, _please_.” Gabriel whined and hunched over his papers. 

"Oh, I got twenty acres and you got forty-three  
Now I've got a brand new combine harvester and I'll give you the key"

"For the love of God, Bee, stop it!" The angel cried, rubbing his face with both hands in frustration.

She got up, walked right behind his chair, bent down to poise her lips against his ear to whisper, "Oo-arr oo-arr!" 

And _ran_. 

Despite their differences, they spent more and more time together. Gabriel had no qualms against sitting at the breakfast table while Beelzebub was preparing herself something to eat. Partially because he could bark orders at her to clean up after herself, it was her kitchen after all. 

But Gabriel also spent time with her outside in the garden, basking in the sun while reading reports on a lawn chair when the demon was grilling herself some sausages.

"Do they have to be that black?" He asked, pushing his sunglasses up into his sun-bleached hair to inspect what she was carrying over to the small table on her platter. 

"It adds to the flavour." She replied and slathered her sausages with mustard. 

The angel grimaced at her meal. "If you feel like licking coals, sure."

"You don't know a thing about food, asshole." She said and stabbed a sausage with her fork and bit into it. 

"Neither do you by the looks of it." The angel quipped.

The demon groaned. "Why again did I agree to share this cottage?"

Gabriel put his papers down and leaned on one arm to regard her. Something had changed, there was a notably less bite to her banter. "You're starting to like me, admit it. "

Beelzebub stayed silent. For a long moment. Too long to give a witty answer. He was right and she _hated_ it. 

A smug grin bloomed on Gabriel's handsome face, purple eyes sparkling with triumphant mirth.

_Shit._

Four days later, a particular cheese had gone missing, and things had finally snapped between them.

  


  


On the 23rd of December, Beelzebub had decided to go shopping for snacks she planned to eat over the holidays. Chocolate Santas should be on sale now, they always were. And advent calendars, she could open all the little doors unto the 23rd at once. 

On her way out she spotted Dagon's card on the coffee table. A glance through the window told her that Thomas and his sisters were playing outside again. 

Dagon surely wouldn't send her anything dangerous, she knew how vital the cottage was. To Hell, and to Beelzebub, privately. She grabbed the envelope, got dressed and went outside. 

"Kids, do you want to see a surprise?" She called out. 

"The goth lady!" Thomas shouted. 

“Her name is _Bella_.” His sister corrected and tugged her siblings towards the garden gate. "What kind of surprise, Miss Bella?" Emma asked. 

"We won't accept any sweets from you." Gracie added, dutifully

"That's the best part of it, I don't even know what the surprise is myself. A friend sent me a Christmas card, I'm sure it contains a prank." She opened the envelope. No glitter fell out, thank Satan. She placed the card carefully on the ground and joined the children outside the gate. Better safe than sorry.

"On the count of three!" She announced, and the children joined her in counting down. 

She snapped her fingers, and the card opened. It was playing the merry tune of Jingle Bells. Composed exclusively with fart noises. The three children to her side were laughing until the smell reached them. "Ewww!" They all cried out and held their button noses, but kept on giggling. 

"You rascals go have fun, but keep off my property, ok?" Beelzebub said, smiling at their small happy faces. 

"Yes, Miss Bella!" They all nodded and waved at her as she left for the supermarket. 

She stuck to fruits and nuts, got some eggs, flour, little packages of vanilla sugar, and fresh milk. She relished the turmoil at the checkouts and took her time counting her coins, one by one. The humans in the queue behind her were fuming, muttering passive-aggressive insults. Christmas was such a lovely mess, making everyone antsy and punishing procrastination to the finest. 

The sun was about to set when she returned home. She stopped at the gate, made the tooting card vanish in a little flame and took in the sight of the cottage and its garden.

She intended to stay here. Satan would have to come and drag her away from this place himself if he wanted her to give up her home. But as long as living here didn't impact her work, the King wouldn't care in the slightest.

She could do something about the garden, plant some flowers. She had heard the humans had produced black tulips during the last century, she could get those for spring. Black petunia in big bowls on each side of the front door. Lavender and lilies for Gabriel, she thought to herself with a smile. Making resolutions for the new year was a thing of Hell, anyway, she could allow herself these ideas. 

The busy archangel was back just before midnight. He dropped onto the loveseat with a groan and leaned his head back. 

"Bee!" He beckoned her over with a sluggish wave of his hand. "Bee, I did it." 

She sat down beside him and leaned into his side. "Did what?"

"Everything!" He lazily nuzzled into her black hair. "I'm staying home for the holidays. All the way to the 6th of January."

_All I want for Christmas is you._ Rang in Beelzebub's mind. She got him. He's here, staying home for Christmas. Her heart swelled inside her chest.

"I may have even earned myself a nap." The angel said, yawning and letting his head fall to her shoulder. 

Apparently, a tired Gabriel was a cuddly Gabriel. She didn't mind at all. "Do you even know how to sleep?"

"I'm sure you'll teach me." He mumbled and kissed her neck. "You're good at sleeping, I've seen you."

"You creep." Beelzebub chuckled and carded her fingers through his hair. "Come on, up. Let's go to bed."

"Not yet." He pulled himself up. "I've got something for you to celebrate." He reached for his linen bag and produced a plastic container. He lifted its lid carefully and held it out to her. "Champagne!" He exclaimed.

"Muffins!" Beelzebub retorted dryly. Heavens, how much had he pushed himself?

"No, Bee." He picked one of the pastries up. "The cream on top, they've made it with champagne. The charity gala was wasting money on _that_ , so I thought I'd bring you these tiny evil cakes."

She laughed but took one. They were small enough to be eaten in one bite, so she simply peeled it out of its paper to do so. "They're good." She said and moaned at the taste. 

Gabriel watched her, too tired to keep his face guarded. He looked to endeared, it made her blush, which only led to his eyes starting to shine. "Can I have a taste?"

She knew what he meant. He still refused to eat most of the time, but he was intrigued by the sensation of taste and vicariously experienced it through her. She nodded at him and swallowed before capturing his mouth. An indecent moan escaped his lips as their tongues met. The kiss was slow and sweet, his hands held her by her sides while her arms wound around his shoulders. What a strange man this angel was, but she wouldn't have him any other way. 

"Let's go to bed, Bee." He murmured against her lips, stifling another yawn. 

She put the muffins into the fridge and led the way upstairs. They brushed their teeth and changed into something more comfortable. In Gabriel's case, a set of mauve-coloured silk pyjamas, but for Beelzebub, it was, shamelessly, the shirt he had been wearing throughout the day. 

Gabriel halted in front of the bed. "I believe there are sides to this? Which one is yours?"

"I've never had to share the bed, really, I tend to sleep in the middle." Which wasn't entirely true. They had spent one night in here together, during the storm. She had slept under his right wing. "I'll take the right, you the left." She added, reminiscent of _that_ night. 

"Fine with me." He said and already climbed under the duvet. 

Beelzebub felt nervous all of a sudden. She had dreamt of this, she really wanted it, but it was too good to be true. She tentatively got in and scooted closer. They both lay on their sides, facing each other. Gabriel reached for her hand and laced their fingers together. 

"So, all I need to do is close my eyes and wait?" He asked, eyes already shut.

"Basically, yeah." She said and studied his gorgeous features as they relaxed. "Don't be afraid when your body starts to feel heavy, it means you're on the right track."

"Mhmm." Gabriel hummed in acknowledgement. His breathing slowed. The asshole had the audacity to fall asleep before her. While holding her hand. She could hear her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. The archangel Gabriel was sleeping in the bed of her, a Prince of Hell. Peacefully. Trusting her to do no harm. 

Fuck, she loved this dumb angel so much. She'd tell him tomorrow when she gave him his gift. She had to. 

It took a while, but she fell asleep a little later, not letting go of his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is only one (1) update left and we all know what that means.
> 
> Are you ready for all the feels? The end of pining? _More_ feels?
> 
> Up Next: 24 - Love ♥


	24. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the morning of Christmas Eve, Beelzebub woke up to the beautiful sight of Gabriel’s eyes looking at her. He had a hand on her hip, drawing patterns into her skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are about to read the finale of this soft bureaucratic Christmas journey. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving me your attention, your patience and your kind words in the comments. This pairing is by far more often used for deeper, darker and kinkier stories, so, thank you _so much_ for giving these two idiots a chance at sweet, sweet love. 
> 
> ‘Tis the true spirit of the season.
> 
> Enjoy!

  


### 

◍⊱•••• LOVE ••••⊰◍

  


On Christmas Eve, Beelzebub woke up to the beautiful sight of Gabriel’s eyes looking at her. He had a hand on her hip, drawing patterns into her skin.

“Good morning.” He said in a quiet voice, smiling at her.

There were wrinkles from the pillow on his cheek, so he just woke up himself. Beelzebub made a sound somewhere between a purr and a grumble and snuggled into his chest. 

“This is so nice.” She sighed and closed her eyes again as he started to pet her hair. 

“It is.” The angel admitted and lay his head back down. “I can see why you enjoy dozing.”

She had never felt this comfortable and warm. They stayed like this, simply lying in bed, embracing each other while the world around them slowly came to life. Children were playing outside, car doors thumped shut. Someone was playing Christmas music, the soft tunes spilt in even through the closed window. There was no rush, nowhere to be. They could have this moment just to themselves, enjoying the intimacy of it, the small touches. 

The sheets rustled softly as Gabriel shuffled down to face Beelzebub. His gentle gaze made the demon’s breath hitch, even more so when he drew her close to kiss her. He took his time, luring her with the tip of his tongue, nibbled her bottom lip before deepening the kiss. 

A hand of his found its way underneath her shirt and caressed her stomach, gradually moving up to tease at her nipples. They immediately hardened between his fingers and Beelzebub gasped into his mouth. Gabriel let his hand trail back down, past her belly button all ethereals had despite being created instead of born. His fingers traced her lips through her panties, and she pushed into the touch. Their kiss grew more eager as the angel started to rut against her hip. She could feel his how cock was hardening for her. She tugged her fingers into his waistband, but he stopped her.

“Let me take care of you, Bee.” He hushed and kissed along her jaw. “Ok?”

Beelzebub nodded and rolled onto her back. Gabriel gave her another deep kiss before he sat up and unbuttoned his pyjama shirt. He let the soft fabric glide to the floor and hooked his fingers into her underwear to pull it off her. With a nudge to her knees, she opened her legs for him, and Gabriel settled between them, kissing his way down her stomach, over her mound. After a sweet peck to her labia, he let the tip of his tongue run along her slit. Beelzebub tried to buck into him, but he held her in place with his hands on her thighs. 

“We have _time_ , Bee.” He let his breath ghost over her heating sex. 

She groaned in answer and threw her arms to her sides, signalling that she wouldn’t do a blessed thing and let him have his way. Just this once. 

Painfully slow, he licked between her lips, careful not to touch her clit, not until she was squirming with want. When he finally lapped at it, a guttural moan escaped the demon, and her legs twitched. Gabriel kept teasing her, barely using pressure where she needed it most, pulling back whenever she pushed against his mouth. 

"Oh, _please._ " Beelzebub mewled, her hands gripping at the sheets. 

"Please what?" The angel asked all too innocently.

She could feel how close his mouth was, but he wasn't touching her anymore, waiting for an answer. She had to choose her words wisely. "Let me come on your cock, please."

"As you wish." With that, he put his mouth back to use, but this time with fervour. While Beelzebub was distracted with pleasure, he tugged his trousers down to his knees and kicked them off the bed. He kept one hand on the demon's hip, the other went down between his own legs to stroke himself. He felt the first tremors of a building orgasm against his tongue and sucked ternderly on her clit. She was so close to the edge now, just a little more and she'd find release. 

Gabriel withdrew and looked at the wanton demon clawing at the sheets. He did this to her, and he'll finish it. He had an idea, and curiosity won him over. Gabriel manifested his wings, all of them, and spread them above them as far as the bedroom allowed for it. Her eyes grew wide, and she bit her lip. 

Gabriel pushed his length into her, moaning at her gripping heat around his cock. Fuck, she really was close. Her legs came up around his waist and desperately pulled him even deeper into her. It only took a few thrusts and her back arched off the mattress as she came, making the most beautiful broken sounds. 

He drove her through her orgasm and into another. And another. And another. Until he couldn't hold back himself any longer and his own climax tore through him. He couldn't fight the urge to flap his wings as he came. He felt them flutter and his feathers puff as he rode out his orgasm. He pressed himself flush against her, spending his release into the shuddering demon, where he knew she wanted it, needed it. 

"Good morning." Beelzebub croaked against his neck, throat dry, while she reached for his smallest set of wings. "So _pretty_."

The archangel breathlessly moaned in a different kind of pleasure. His wings relaxed and hung, sated and comfortable as he felt, off the edge of the bed. 

Feeling sticky and high with the afterglow, they went and took a shower together, washing each other between kisses. Neither of them could shake the giddy feeling in their bellies, knowing what they’d tell the other today. 

Gabriel was so gentle with her lately, so caring that even Beelzebub was starting to feel that _maybe_ there was a chance her love for him wasn’t unrequited, even if he was an angel. He was different when he was with her, more of a character, a person, than a mere celestial pawn. 

She’d tell him how she felt. _After_ breakfast.

They got dressed. Gabriel pulled on grey sweat trousers and a soft lavender cashmere jumper, his socks matching the colour. Beelzebub, as it has become a habit during December, only wore fresh black panties and a long festive red cable-knit jumper with a loose cowl-neck and black ribbons braided into the sleeves. 

The two of them went downstairs. Gabriel was ready to step into the living room, eager to exchange gifts and _tell her_ , but Beelzebub made a beeline for the kitchen. He followed her and watched as she took a bottle of milk and a carton of eggs from the fridge.

“Bee?” He began, not entirely sure where he’d be going with this. 

“I’m making pancakes, for the syrup you brought.” She explained and got up on her toes to reach a bowl on the upper level of the cupboards. 

“Teach me.” Gabriel said, without even thinking about it. 

Beelzebub halted. “Really? You don’t eat.”

“ _You_ do.” He gestured vaguely at her with a small smile.

A quiet moment passed between, eyes locked on each other, trying to read the unspoken words hanging in volumes between them. 

Beelzebub nodded, her cheeks reddening. “Ok.” 

The angel moved to stand beside her and was promptly handed the bowl and a whisk. 

“If you’re cooking, you’re cleaning up afterwards as well.” The demon clarified for him. “No miracles.”

“No miracles.” Gabriel parroted and moved out of the way to let Beelzebub gather all ingredients and utensils needed. 

“It’s really simple. You start with this.” She cracked an egg on the rim of the bowl. “And then you add 250ml of milk.” She pointed at the bottle and beaker. Gabriel took it and poured the milk into it, maddeningly slow. Beelzebub crossed her arms to keep her hands from interfering. He wanted to cook _for her_ , and she would not ruin this. Gabriel added the milk to the egg and looked at her expectantly. “Like everything in life, take it with a grain of salt.” She said and held the white angel shaker out to him, the one gifted to them by Micheal. 

“Just one grain? Really?” He asked, doing his best to shake as little as possible out of the figurine. 

“Heavens, Gabriel.” Beelzebub laughed. “You wouldn’t know, it’s ok.” She took his hand holding the shaker and guided it to the bowl, tapping her finger against the wings to get just the right amount of salt. “This should do it. Measuring salt comes from intuition. You’ll learn, but it’s going to take some time.”

“Challange accepted.” Gabriel said with a smirk. “What next?” 

Beelzebub held up a small package. “This. My secret ingredient.”

“It’s not a secret if you’re telling it to me.” He pointed out and took the package from her hand. 

“Oh, I will tell you another one later.” She announced and could feel her entire face heating up. _Fuck._

Gabriel didn’t comment on it, he had to deal with the strange fluttery feeling in his stomach caused by the cocky comment that was followed by her eyes averting his gaze coyly. 

“Open it and pour the vanilla sugar into the milk.” She instructed and waited for him to do so. “Now, use the whisk to mix it all up.” She saw his clumsy attempt and couldn’t stop another laugh from bubbling up. “Let me help.” She reached for his hand and adjusted the grip on the handle. “Smooth movements from your wrist. Yes, like that. There is still hope for you, after all.”

“But what do we do with the flour?” He asked, tapping a finger at the package.

“We’ll gradually add it until it’s still liquid but creamy.” Beelzebub stated and filled some of the flour into another beaker, 250g to be precise. She took a spoon to scoop up up a portion and let it drop into the wet ingredients. “Stir it slowly at first, so the flour doesn’t come flying back out, and then whisk again.” They repeated the process together until the batter was done. 

The demon took a flat pan from one of the drawers and set it on a hob, dribbled a few droplets of oil into it and handed Gabriel a wide spatula. “I don’t trust you with flipping them in the air. Not yet.” 

She tested for the temperature by pressing her finger into the pan. “Oh, right. Maybe don’t do that, angel.” 

“How am I to know it’s hot enough, then?” He asked.

“Hold your hand over the pan.” Gabriel didn’t move. “You won’t melt, come on.”

He did as he was told. He let Beelzebub push it closer to the hot pan, trusting her not to hurt him. 

“If it feels like that, it should be right.” The demon picked up a ladle and stirred the batter with it. “If it’s too hot, the pancakes just burn. Too cold and they’ll be dry before they are done.” She poured one fill of the ladle into the pan before picking it up and swaying it in a circular motion to spread the batter evenly. “You’ll do the next one.”

Gabriel watched attentively. The colour of the batter changed. She took the spatula from him to lift a corner and peek underneath. There were golden and brown spots on it. With a swift and deft movement, the pancaked flew up and was caught by Beelzebub in the pan, switched onto the other side. She took a plate from the cupboard and slid the pancake onto it.

“Your turn.” She said, giving Gabriel a curt bow. 

He took the ladle, poured the batter into the pan, swayed and, no, _shit_ , he couldn’t get it to spread evenly quick enough. He was messing--

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t have to be perfect to be good.” Beelzebub said, smiling reassuringly at him. She leaned her hip against the counter and was lathering the still steaming pancake on her plate with maple syrup before rolling it up with her bare fingers.

“Just wait until you try this atrocity.” The angel grumbled more to himself than her.

“Gabriel, not a single sweet you’ve ever given me was bad. This won’t be either.” She bit into her hot pastry. “This is good.”

He flipped the pancake using the spatula, and a moment later, he served it to Beelzebub. She smothered it in syrup, rolled it up and lifted it to her lips. This was what he was waiting for, what that little voice in the back of his mind kept whispering to him. He held his breath as she bit into it. With closed eyes, she leaned her head back and hummed in delight. 

“Whatever you’ve done with this one, it’s even better.” She took another mouthfull, chewed, savoured it, and swallowed. “Fuck, it's so good.”

 _It’s my love for you._ He wanted to say it, but the words were stuck in his throat. So he did the next best thing he could think of and kissed her, tasting what they had cooked together on her tongue. He drew back and licked his lips, sticky with syrup.

“Gabriel?”

He leaned down to kiss her again, but a hand on his chest stopped him. 

“Gabriel, the oil is burning up.” Beelzebub pointed over his shoulder.

“Shit.” The angel cursed and quickly pulled the pan off the hob. “Bee, I’m sorry.”

The demon laughed. “Just wait for it to cool off and wipe the oil out. Then you can start again.” She went to the breakfast table and sat down, resting her chin on her palm to observe. She looked happy. 

But it left Gabriel to deal with cooking by himself. He handled it, each pancake looking more and more even. He couldn’t get enough of watching her eat them. Gabriel knew he wouldn’t just be bringing sweets home from all over the world come next year. He’d start to bring recipes as well, to try and cook them with her. For reasons beyond his understanding, this was fun.

It was time.

“Bee, I know it’s still early, but I have something for you.” Gabriel set the utensils aside to wash them later. 

“What a coincidence.” The demon said and got to her feet. “As you already know, I have a gift for you.”

He followed her into the living room where she pulled out the top drawer of her desk and turned it over, spilling its contents. She lifted a plate, unveiling a hidden compartment and took out a small box, wrapped in the silver paper decorated with white feathers he had seen before. 

“For you.” She said and held the small parcel out to him. Suddenly, she seemed timid.

There was love bound behind the lavender ribbon. Gabriel pulled at it and lay it on her desk, amidst the clutter and peeled off the paper. Inside it was a cream-coloured velvet box. He opened the lid with unsteady fingers to reveal two small pieces of jewellery.

“I thought--” She began but stopped, took a deep breath and tried again. “You’re an angel. You’re a being of love, but they don’t allow you to wear your own heart on your sleeve. With these, you can.”

In the box, on a white cushion, lay cufflinks. They were made from a light blue metal, shaped into three stems of lavender each, resembling three pairs of wings. The gems were a myriad or purples colours, everything from the lightest lavender to bright purple and dark indigo. 

Beelzebub continued, rambling to cover for his lack of response. “I know angels are supposed to wear gold, but these really suit your own style, your own favourite colours. They are small, they won’t cause an issue, you could even wear them in Heaven.”

“I will.” There was no doubt in his voice. “Bee, they are beautiful. Thank you.”

“You like them?” Her voice hitched, her blue eyes were shining.

“I love them.” Gabriel beamed at her, charmed by the gift. A gift for him. For the being who enjoyed suits and purple and lavender. This was what she had done to him those last few months. She had encouraged him to explore who he was, besides being an angel, an agent of God. She made him accept his interests, indulge in his hobbies, without having to hide it. There was no shame when he was with her. He could be himself. She had shown him who he was. 

And, that he could _love_. 

“I have something for you as well.” Gabriel sniffed and turned to his own desk, blinking at his curiously stinging eyes. 

He retrieved an oblong package from his top drawer. It was wrapped in red paper and opulent matte black ribbons. 

“This is a gift?” Beelzebub asked. She looked confused as it was placed in her hands. 

“Well, yes.” Gabriel responded. He had not foreseen this reaction.

“Not food, an actual gift.” The demon clarified. 

Oh, that explained it. Besides the plant, Gabriel had never brought her anything beside sweets. 

“A gift _to a demon_ by the Archangel Gabriel, the messenger who talked to Mother Mary herself.” Beelzebub elaborated. 

“A cute demon, and yes.” He joked, trying to lighten her anxious mood. 

She gave him a lopsided smile and loosened the ribbons. They fell to the ground and were joined by the wrapping paper she ripped off her gift. After that, she held a jewellery box in her hand, made from black leather with delicate golden etchings along the sides. Beelzebub lifted the lid and couldn’t believe her eyes. Inside it, she found a bracelet made of a string of flies, build from intricately cut jewels. The sheen wings where shimmering enigmatically in pastel colours, the bodies were black with hints of gold, the eyes sparkling in fiery reds and oranges. The metal itself was a rich black hue.

“What is the meaning of this?” She asked, voice sounding wet. 

The wafts of love coming off Beelzebub, despite her nervousness, were intoxicating. It was time. 

“It means,” Gabriel began, fumbling and shifting his stance. “It means I love you.”

A painful expression crossed Beelzebub’s face. “You're--”

“No. Stop.” Gabriel interjected and put his hands on her shoulders. “Bee, I love you. Intimately. Romantically. Domestically. I love you in every possible way and probably some impossible ones.” His heart was about to break his ribs.

“I, uhm.” She looked between his eyes and the bracelet, wringing with what to say. He loved her. He _loved_ her. 

“It's ok if you don't. You know.” Gabriel gestured between them with one hand, but he couldn’t deny the pain he felt in his chest at her silence. Maybe he had misunderstood what he felt around her. 

Beelzebub reached for his hand, squeezed it tight. “Will you stay with me? Here? In the cottage?” She asked quietly. 

The angel stroked her shoulder. The demon standing before him was trembling. “If you want me here.” 

“I do.” Beelzebub rubbed a finger over the polished gems. “I always miss you when you're away.”

“I'll stay then.” Gabriel pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. 

“Not just here.” She added, brushing her thumb over the back of his hand. “Stay with _me_.”

“What do you mean?” He wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t possibly be wrong. Oh, please, don’t let him be wrong. 

“It means.” The words felt heavy on her tongue, but she had to confess. “It means I enjoy you being close. Not just when we have sex. Always. Simply working at our desks together. Or talking all night. Walks, you fucking make me enjoy _walks_. And waking up, knowing you're here, in this cottage.” Beelzebub was shaking but pressed on. “It has become our home, hasn't it?” She sobbed. It was all too real all of a sudden. “It means I love you, too.”

Gabriel pulled the demon into his arms and embraced her. “I’ll stay, Bee, I’ll stay. With you.” He kissed her temple while she clung to him for a long moment. 

When she pulled back and took the bracelet from its box to put on her wrist, the angel gently stopped her.

“It’s, uhm, its an ankle bracelet.” He explained and had the decency to blush. 

In that moment, Beelzebub broke. Tears spilt from her eyes as she learned that, yes, she was able to cry from utter happiness. 

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, we almost hit 40.000 words. This is the first multi-chapter story I've ever finished in my entire life. Writing this filled me with so much joy and pushed me, a lot. Until November, I barely could string 1.500 words together for a single update. Yesterday, I wrote 2.000 in three hours. This experience will help me to move on with [The Grey Fledgeling](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1499264) (shameless self-plug) and hopefully various other bureaucratic endeavours in the future.
> 
> Thank you, readers, for coming along, leaving kudos and comments and encouraging me to continue. I'm deeply moved. 
> 
> Now, go out there and tell your loved ones how you feel. 
> 
> See you soon [♥](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MRW7d7PIZ6U)
> 
> PS: Special thanks to my husband, the endless well of love I tap into when I write this pairing. You make this little pink-haired broken demon of a woman so happy, especially today. I love you.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [AEpixie7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AEpixie7) for encouraging me, totally without any ulterior motives, to write this. 
> 
> Up next: 02 - Snowball ♥


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